


Right Idea, Wrong Age

by MsBrooklyn



Series: Assembly Line (or Why It's a Lot Harder than Steve Thought to Recruit New Members) [2]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Daredevil (TV), Spider-Man (Ultimateverse), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Community: daredevilkink, Earth 1610 Spider-Man, Gen, Humor, Team Dynamics, Ultimate Spider-Man Vol. 1
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-07
Updated: 2015-07-22
Packaged: 2018-04-08 04:38:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 32,038
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4291104
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MsBrooklyn/pseuds/MsBrooklyn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is the ongoing tale of Captain America's attempt to recruit new Avengers from the masked do-gooders that have been cropping up in New York City.  Recruiting Spider-man makes Steve's experience with Matt Murdock's prickly personality seem like a vacation.</p><p>Partially inspired by this prompt:<br/>https://daredevilkink.dreamwidth.org/2760.html?thread=5669064#cmt5669064</p><p>Note: this is the 2000-2009 (Earth 1610) Ultimate Spidey.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

 

It's a cool, crisp September morning and Steve Rogers is enjoying his run around Manhattan. The rising sun reflects majestically off of the new World Trade Center and he promises himself to come back and sketch it. He never had the opportunity to see the Twin Towers so he can't understand the ferocity with which native New Yorkers swear that the new building cannot and never will measure up. Just as he's about to detour onto Broadway and run past the sculpture of the bull there is a loud explosion, followed by white smoke that tells him a building has been damaged. It's coming from behind him, to the northeast but it isn't the New York Stock Exchange. There's one other major target in this part of Manhattan; the Federal Reserve with its basement full of gold bullion.

He arrives in time to see federal agents aiming their guns and setting up a perimeter. A loud crash sounds from inside the building and a red and blue blur comes hurtling out, crashing into a tactical van. Spider-man groans and staggers to his feet, taking in the scene around him.

"You guys might wanna get back," he tells the federal agents. "Like all the way to Queens. This guy's got a mad-on like you wouldn't believe."

"Go get 'im, Spidey," calls one of the agents even as another yells at him to get down on the ground.

Steve hesitates. Sure, he can jump in and handle whatever is brewing but he's curious about Spider-man. Just as he resolves not to interfere, the cause of the disturbance comes charging out of the building. In a rhinoceros costume. No. Rhinoceros armor.

"Nice Rhino," Spider-man coos, backing up a step. "Put the gold bars down and let's talk about this, arachnid to endangered species -- Yikes!"

The Rhino(?) lifts the tactical van and hurls it towards the federal agents. Spider-man shoots some kind of string -- no, webbing -- and forms a net, catching the van before it can hit them. While his attention is diverted, the Rhino starts to make his escape. Spider-man whirls and coats him from head to toe in webbing, lifting the enraged man into the air and attaching him to a lamp-post. 

"Ow, geez," Spider-man complains, rubbing his lower back. "Ever think about going on a diet, pal?" He coats the Rhino in a few more layers of webbing before turning to the federal agents who are now pointing their guns in his direction. "Uh, guys? I just stopped him --"

"On the ground!" shouts an agent. 

"But I -- "

"Excuse me." Steve steps forward to defuse the situation. "You're not planning to detain Spider-man, are you?"

The lead agent's eyes go wide as he realizes who Steve is. "Well, sir, we --"

"He's getting away!" shouts another agent and sure enough, that was all the distraction Spider-man needed to launch himself upwards and start leaping across rooftops.

Steve eyes the webbing holding the Rhino, decides it's secure and takes off after the potential newest member of the Avengers. He's not sure how Spider-man realizes he's being followed but apparently, he does because the next thing Steve knows, he's wrapped in webbing and being hauled onto the roof of New York Law School.

"Hey, buddy, I -- oh! Oh my god." Spider-man actually backs up a step when he realizes who he's caught and then buries his face in his hand. "I just cocooned Captain America."

The webbing, Steve discovers, is stronger than it looks. "Can you get me out of this?"

"Um, no," Spider-man says, his face still buried in his hand. "It'll dissolve in, like, an hour, though." He peeks up at Steve. "I'm really sorry. I thought you were a SHIELD agent or something coming to arrest me. Wait. You weren't coming to arrest me, were you?" He puts his hands on his hips and manages to sound petulant. "Of course you were. So, it was, um, nice meeting you and all, I guess --"

"Would you stop?" Contrary to popular belief, the serum that made him a super soldier does not make Steve immune to headaches and Spider-man is giving him a hell of a headache. "I wasn't coming to arrest you. I wanted to talk."

"To me?" His voice actually rises an octave.

Steve narrows his eyes as he looks Spider-man over. He's far more slight than Daredevil but stronger and possibly more agile, though it's clear he has no idea what to do with that strength or agility. "Do you see anyone else on this rooftop?"

"Just a couple of pigeons." Spider-man crouches to inspect Steve's wrist, which is peeking out from the web cocoon. No, not the wrist. His watch. "Is it that late already?" He sounds panicked as he bounces to his feet, shooting yet another webline and pulling a backpack from behind the chimney, slinging it over his narrow shoulders. "Sorry to web and run, Captain, but I'm late for cla--...uh...work. Could we maybe talk another time?"

"Will you have time after work?" Steve asks and then adds, with just a hint of sarcasm. "Assuming these...webs...have melted by then, of course."

"Oh, they will," Spider-man assures him earnestly, crossing his heart with one gloved hand. "I get out at six but, uh, you probably wouldn't be able to get hold of me. I mean, I can't give you my work number because of..." He gestures to his mask. "Is there some place you had in mind? Because I can be there. Unless it's underwater. The webs aren't good for that and I can't really swim that well."

The Tower, he decides, isn't the best place for a meeting. No. He wants this low-key because it seems that Spider-man is incredibly high-strung. A one-on-one meeting, the same way he did it with Daredevil, seems to be the best approach. "Your place?"

Spider-man emits a sound that's a combination of a laugh and a squeak. "No! Um..uh...You know, secret identity and all," he rambles nervously. "But yeah, some place not public would be great. How about the roof of the Morgan Pierpont Library? It's relatively secluded and close to the Avengers Tower. Also, it's kind of pretty this time of year." Spider-man gives a nervous twitch. "I mean, you're okay with meeting on a roof, right? I don't want you to --"

"It's fine," Steve assures him. "Six, then."

"Six-fifteen," Spider-man amends, perching on the edge of the roof and shooting a webline. "Rush hour traffic and all." With that, he launches himself from the roof and quickly swing out of sight.

Steve tests the webbing again and sighs. He's going to be up here for a while.

 

000000000000000000

 

Steve is intimately familiar with the Morgan Pierpont Library. Once the private library of JP Morgan himself, the library opened to the public when Steve was just a boy. Growing up, he visited as often as he could to view the European masters and other art housed there. It's the first time he's been back since waking up in the 21st Century and while there's a new addition to the building, the outside is exactly as he remembered. He scales the three story building with ease and considers the view of Murray Hill while he waits for his guest.

"Hey! Sorry I'm late," Spider-man calls out, landing with a flourish. "You would not believe the day I had. Well, maybe you would. So, after dealing with that Rhino jerk this morning, I thought I'd splurge on a falafel for lunch but that Shocker loser decided to try robbing a bank. Man, you'd think the guy would just hang it up already. I mean, I take him down like every other week. And speaking of which, how is the guy not in a cell somewhere? The lame-o name itself should be illegal." He finally comes up for air and slips the backpack from his shoulders. "So anyway, I missed lunch and haven't eaten, like, all day. You mind if I have a snack while we talk?"

"I could buy you dinner," Steve offers.

Spider-man snorts a laugh and gestures to his costume. "I know it's New York and all, but we'd kind of stick out."

Steve folds his arms over his chest and nods towards the backpack. "I assume there are street clothes in there. You could change."

"Change?" Spider-man claps a hand to his chest, pretending he's wounded. "I thought you liked me the way I am." His left hand clutches the backpack tighter. "Also, there's the whole matter of you seeing my face. Not that I'm deformed or anything but --"

"Would I recognize you?" Steve asks.

"Well, no," Spider-man admits. "But you would later. Also, there are surveillance cameras all over Manhattan. You probably have access to all of that and a gazillion public records, so--"

"And if I promise not to put a name to the face?"

Spider-man cocks his head to the side. "Are you saying I could give you a pseudonym? And you won't try to find out who I am?"

"Yes."

"You promise, right?"

"I'm Captain America," Steve reminds him. 

"Um... Okay. Just... I need to make a call." At Steve's nod, he takes himself to the furthest corner of the roof and has a hushed conversation saying that he's not going to be home for dinner. Steve knows he shouldn't be listening in, but with his enhanced hearing, it's impossible to ignore the discussion. Spider-man bounces back over to Steve and his fingers hover over his mask. "Pleasepleaseplease don't make me regret this because really, you've been my hero for, like, ever, and I think it would scar me for life to find out you're a big fat liar."

Steve wonders if Clint would be so eager to get Spider-man on the team if he had to listen to him for any extended period of time.

There's a long pause while Spider-man silently continues his anxiety attack. Finally, he raises his mask.

"Jesus, you're just a kid," Steve blurts at the sight of the big brown eyes set in a face that's just this side of puberty. His reaction makes Spider-man panic. Quickly yanking the mask down, he fires a webline at the building across the street and prepares to flee. Before he can leap, Steve grabs his arm. "Easy, son."

Spider-man jerks free and even with the mask on, manages to look offended. "Son? It's 'son' now? Dude --"

"Steve." Dealing this kid makes his experience with Matt Murdock's prickly personality seem like a vacation. "You can call me Steve. What should I call you?"

"Late for dinner," Spider-man tells him and launches himself onto the roof of the adjacent building. A webline snags the backpack at Steve's feet.

Steve grabs the backpack and tugs. Now that he knows how strong the webs are, he also knows that Spider-man has two choices: get into a tug of war with Captain America or abandon the contents of the backpack, which will presumably reveal the boy's name. There's a sharp tug on the web. Steve tugs back. They go at it for a few minutes before a visibly upset Spider-man drops back onto the roof.

"Wow, you are really some kind of a --"

"We can get takeout," Steve interrupts him, "and have a picnic up here."

"No!" Spider-man snatches the backpack, hugging it to his chest. "Not in a million years. Forget it, pal --"

"Steve." It takes everything he has not to grab the kid's arm and physically restrain him. "See that little coffee shop over there? I can get us some cheeseburgers. You like cheeseburgers, don't you?"

"Well, sure, who doesn't but --"

"Of course you do. Besides, you just told me you haven't eaten all day." That's it, he tells himself. Soft. Soothing. "You must be starving."

"I am a little peckish," Spider-man admits. "Web-slinging is hungry work."

Steve nods as if he understands. "My metabolism means I have a big appetite. How about you?"

"Uh...same."

"So two burgers or three? I'm having three."

"Three," Spider-man says, sheepishly. "I, uh, can kick in a few bucks --"

"I've got this," Steve assures him, slinging a leg over the ledge of the roof. "You're going to be here when I get back, right?"

"Um, sure."

"Tell you what. Since I've already seen your face, how about you change out of that costume and think of a pseudonym while I'm gone?"

"You promise you're not gonna call me 'son' again?"

Steve shoots him a look. "I might slip but it's nothing personal. I called one of the Joint Chiefs 'son' a while back. He didn't seem to mind."

"Well, if it's good enough for him," the boy shrugs. "No, wait. I still don't like it."

"If you'd like to join the Avengers, you're going to have to live with it," Steve tells him and then adds with a grin, "Son." With that, he drops off the side of the building to get their dinner. He's fairly certain there's no way he's going to add a child to the team but there's also no way he can let a kid run around fighting things like that Rhino character without having someone watching his back.

Maybe he can get Daredevil to do it.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A thought occurs to Peter and he blurts it out. "Hey, do you know Daredevil?"
> 
> "I do," Steve says. "He's just joined the team."
> 
> "Really?" No, Peter tells himself. Do not act hopeful. Do not ask. Let Captain America ask you. Oh heck. "Can I join?"

Chapter 2

 

Peter spends a good five minutes taking his street clothes out of his backpack and putting them back in while he also contemplates running away. As much as running away seems like a great idea, he promised Captain America that he wouldn't leave and it's probably treason to lie to Captain America. Also, the man is buying him three cheeseburgers and that's not a cheap proposition in New York City. And, of course, Captain America has seen his face.

God, he's an idiot.

With a sigh, he tugs his street clothes over his Spidey suit and sends a quick text to MJ. She knows who he's meeting and the excited text she sends back when he tells her the meeting turned into dinner is almost enough to calm him down about the fact that Captain America's seen his face. That doesn't stop him from emitting a yelp and jumping straight up into the air when Captain 'Call me Steve' America vaults onto the roof with a delicious smelling shopping bag full of dinner.

Peter gives him a weak wave in greeting and hopes his girly scream didn't hurt his chances of becoming an Avenger. "Uh, hi."

"Did you pick a name yet?"

"Ben." Really, it's the most appropriate name to give.

The Captain settles down onto the roof and gestures to the bag of food. He's so chill that Peter wonders if he has rooftop picnics with random superheroes who give him fake names every day. "Nice to meet you, Ben. Dig in."

Peter can feel Cap's eyes on him as he gingerly sits and takes a cheeseburger. The scrutiny is intense enough to make him self-conscious. Not that he wasn't before but now...okay, it's freaking him out. Just a little.

"What happened to your clothes?" Cap asks, nodding toward the ripped sleeves of Peter's shirt and the tear in the left knee of his jeans.

Peter ducks his head and decides it's worth risking being charged with treason for lying to Captain America. If he admits the truth, he'll look like a complete dork. "Um...nothing?"

"Were you fighting?" There's more than a hint of disapproval in Captain America's voice.

"No!" Slumping under the weight of that disapproval and the prospect of revealing the awful truth, Peter lowers his cheeseburger and stares at his Chucks. Maybe Cap'll take a hint and let it go. Maybe the universe will give him a break. Maybe --

"That's very irresponsible of you," Cap's face becomes stern as he launches into a lecture. Apparently he's taking this 'son' business really seriously. It's more than a little annoying because really, how much older is he? Minus the seventy years, that is. "With your strength, you could hurt someone --"

"Exactly," Peter peevishly interrupts Captain Self-Righteous. "So instead of fighting back when Flash and his jerk friends gave me the locker knocker to end all locker knockers before third period, I had to take it and look like the biggest loser in school."

"What?" Cap blinks, his lecture on responsibility abandoned in light of Peter's big reveal about just how crappy his life is sometimes.

"A locker knocker. You know, where a big dumb jock kicks little me from behind and sends me crashing face first into a locker. Still beats getting an atomic wedgie but not by much. The humiliation factor is about the same unless Kong recorded it and posted it on YouTube again. Then the humiliation factor would be, like, stratospheric." Peter narrows his eyes because it looks like Cap isn't quite following the direction of his explanation. "Did they not have these things when you went to high school?"

"I...yes...I think. The names were different..." Cap seems at a loss which worries Peter because he's supposed to be In Control Guy. "You were bullied today?"

"Dude, I get bullied *every* day. Do the math. Science geek in a sea of dumb jocks. Seriously, you should know this. You were totally a geek when you were my age. There's no way pre-super soldier you didn't see the inside of a hella lot of lockers in your day."

"Um..." He gestures to his oversized body. "Uh...yes. Some, but I had a friend --"

"Bucky Barnes. Yeah, I know. Look, I've got friends. You should've seen what Gwen did to Flash after he kicked me." Peter is grinning as he remembers Gwen and her switchblade. "He'll be having nightmares for weeks."

Cap is staring at him, the cheeseburger in his hand completely forgotten. "You get bullied and let girls stand up for you?"

"It's the 21st Century," Peter reminds him and no duh it's a little embarrassing to have Gwen standing up for him when he could clean Flash's clock with two fingers. "And hello, secret identity, remember? They bullied me before I became Spidey so it would look suspicious if one day puny Pa-- uh, Peter came into school and beat the snot out of the football team. Besides, like you said, I could really hurt them. Cost of having a secret identity."

"Um..." is all Captain America can say so he covers by stuffing his face with the cheeseburger and some fries. It's more than a little gratifying to see that even a super soldier can be awkward. After a few minutes, the silence starts to get uncomfortable so he ventures, "So it's safe to say you didn't have a good day."

"Are you kidding?" Peter stops himself before he can brag about how much Jolly Jonah paid for the photos he took today. "It was okay, Cap. It's ending well. Unless there's some weirdo I have to fight on my way home. I hope that doesn't happen. I've got a lot of homework and an English test on Friday."

"Steve," Cap reminds him gently, slipping back into 'dad' mode. "You can call me Steve."

Sure he will. When he's ready. Which will probably happen in about ten years. They eat in silence for a while before Peter decides to ask about something that really, he had nobody to ask about until now. "Um, can I ask you something weird?"

Steve raises an eyebrow.

"All that Captain America stuff that people are selling...I guess someone owns the rights to your name or something and, um...well, I found out somebody copyrighted me who isn't...um, me and..." He sighs. How did he not realize how lame that was going to sound before he said it out loud and embarrassed himself in front of Captain America? "Um, you know what? Never mind. I'll just --"

"Stark owned the rights," Steve tells him. "He transferred them to me a while back and I've got the proceeds going to veterans groups and other charities now. Do you know who owns yours?"

Peter shakes his head. "I can't. You already think I'm --"

"I think you need a friend," Steve assures him.

"Really?" Friends with Captain America? No. That is just not possible. Things like that never happen to him. Enemies with Captain America, now that would happen. Not friends.

Steve snaps his fingers under Peter's nose. "Are you okay? You zoned out there for a second."

"Um...I think I might be in shock. People kind of hate me," Peter admits. "Okay, so you want to know who owns the rights, right?" Oh! Bad pun!

"I would."

Peter squinches his eyes shut and says it fast. "Wilsonfisk."

"Fisk? The same Fisk that Daredevil just took down?"

Oh god. He's blushing. Maybe the roof of the Morgan Pierpont will open up and swallow him whole. "Uh-huh. We kind of crossed paths and...you know what? Long story. Short version is that not all fat men are jolly. You know, I used to say stuff like this never happens to Captain America but I guess it did, except the guy who did it to you is a decent human being and Fisk is a bunch of very naughty words that I'm not allowed to say." A thought occurs to Peter and he blurts it out. "Hey, do you know Daredevil?"

"I do," Steve says. "He's just joined the team."

"Really?" No, Peter tells himself. Do not act hopeful. Do not ask. Let Captain America ask you. Oh heck. "Can I join?"

"You have school and other responsibilities, Ben."

"What? I'm sorry, have you seen me?" Peter can't stop himself. He springs up and does a few flips. "I'm awesome. I stopped the Rhino before first period! I'm kicking ass and taking names before and after school, Captain America. You'd be lucky if I joined --"

"Ben." It's the dad voice again.

"Please?" No. He did not. Yes. Yes, he did. He just *whined* to Captain America.

It's Steve's turn to sigh and oh God, he looks serious. That's his serious Captain America face. "I did see you, Ben, and you can't even throw a proper punch. The only reason your punches take anybody down is the power behind them. You're strong and you're fast. You're also very agile. But you need training."

"So train me." No sooner do the words escape his lips than he realizes this is exactly what Steve was aiming for. They didn't call Captain America the 'Man with a Plan' for nothing. "I have an after school job, so we'd have to work around that because I gotta tell you, the ingredients for web fluid are not cheap."

Steve raises an eyebrow. "The web fluid isn't something you, um, secrete?"

"God, no! I invented that and my web-shooters, too," Peter says proudly. "I told you I'm a science nerd."

Apparently, this is the right thing to say because Steve is smiling at him. "You invented all that. Tony is going to like you a great deal."

"You think so? I'd love to meet him. Not because he's Iron Man. I mean, yeah, there's that, but my God, he's brilliant and he's so cool about open sourcing some of his tech. That's how I got the idea for the latest modifications to my trigger mechanism." Peter rummages in his backpack for a webshooter and shows it to Steve. "It's 12 percent lighter now, too, but stores 21 percent more web fluid because of the smaller trigger. You can try it if you want. Just press the button and shoot a web. By changing the pressure on the trigger, you can get a fine web to use for a net, a sturdy web-line or a strong cocoon like I used on you earlier. Hey, were you able to get out of that before the hour was up?"

To his delight, Steve aims at the far wall and shoots. "It took some doing but I got free after about thirty minutes."

Peter frowns, accepting the web-shooter from Steve's hand. "That should have held you for the full hour. Not that I designed it with you in mind. I didn't. I just... Doc Ock was able to snap my webs with his arms last time. Turns out he can control metal now and increase the arms' density, so I have to compensate for that. Webbing his glasses and pulling down his pants only work so many times, y'know."

"You pantsed your adversary?"

"Uh, yeah..." Peter admits uncertainly.

Steve erupts into laughter. "Ben," he says when he recovers, "while I'm sure that was a brilliant tactical move, I can teach you some better ones."

"But would they be as funny?" Peter wonders aloud. "You're serious about teaching me?"

"Very much so, Ben," Steve promises.

Peter sucks in a deep breath. Okay, heregoesnothing. "Peter. M-my name is Peter. That's as much as I'm gonna tell you right now and I hope you'll respect it and not snoop into my life because the mask? It's not just because I'm shy. You get that, right? There are actual living breathing people who could be in danger if my identity becomes public. And, um, I get that you think fifteen is young for me to be swinging around the city but I've got these...uh, powers and shouldn't I use them to help people if I can?" God. He just babbled at Captain America and added him to the ever-growing list of people who know his identity. Or at least part of his identity. "I, uh, sort of believe that with great power comes great responsibility. And that's it. I'm shutting up now."

Steve gets to his feet and runs a hand through his hair. "I swear I don't know where to start. First of all, Peter, thank you for trusting me. You have my word that I won't use any resources to find out your identity. And yes, I agree about using your powers to help people. The thing is, great power isn't enough until you learn how to use it. It took me a while to learn how to use the abilities the serum gave me. They even have new versions of martial arts these days so in a way you could say I'm still learning. My team mates are teaching me. They can teach you too."

"Do...uh...do they have to know my age or, you know, my name?" Ohgodohgod! He's going to be trained by the Avengers!

"Trust is a two-way street." There's the question Peter's been waiting for, though it really hasn't been asked. But it's hanging there just the same.

"You're trying to ask how I became Spider-man, aren't you?"

"You know how I got my abilities," Steve points out.

Peter gnaws at his lower lip, pondering the question. "You guys work for Nick Fury, right?"

"Indirectly."

"But you didn't ask him about me?"

"I did and he told me it was above my clearance."

"He what? Really?" Peter can't help himself. He launches himself upwards and does a series of flips. "Nick Fury did me a solid! He likes me, ladies and gentlemen! The grumpy Gus likes me!" When he glances over at Steve, he's relieved to see a smile on the Avenger's face. "You must have one of the highest clearances of anybody, too."

"It's up there," Steve admits and then adds, "Which means you must be very special."

"Ooh, nice one." He makes a show of checking his non-existent watch. "Gee, look at the time and it's a school night and everything. Sorry to eat and run, Steve --"

Steve heaves a put-upon sigh. "All right, Peter. You don't have to tell me right now."

"It's still a school night." With a grin he tugs off his shirt, revealing the uniform below. "You might wanna look away now. I'm gonna drop my pants."

"I was in the Army, son. I've seen worse than your scrawny rear."

Peter laughs as he stuffs his clothes into his backpack. "You were way scrawnier when you were my age, pal."

"True." Steve watches as Peter attaches his web-shooters and slides his gloves on. "How do I get in touch with you?"

"Uh, whistle?"

"Try again, Slim." He pulls out a cell phone. "Here's what we're going to do. You're going to give me your cell number on the understanding that I won't use it to gather any more information about you and I'll give you mine. I'll call you tomorrow and we're going to plan on at least two training sessions a week. You call my number if you find yourself in a situation where you need someone watching your six. Do we have a deal?"

Oh be still his beating heart. Captain America's phone number! "You'll have to call during lunch or they'll confiscate my phone and give me detention." He recites his cell number and programs in Steve's. That ritual completed, Peter bids Steve goodnight and launches himself skyward with a whoop of joy.

He can't wait to tell Mary Jane.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clint picks up a towel and scrubs at his face. "How'd your date with Spider-man go?"
> 
> "Did you get to first base or did he wind you up and leave you at the door?" Matt asks.
> 
> The pair of them are incorrigible. Then again, so is Steve. "I got to second base, boys. First name and the mask came off."

Chapter 3

 

Steve has a to-do list after his dinner with Peter. The first thing he does is send an e-mail to Pepper, telling her that's he's trying to recruit Spider-man and asks her to look into who owns the rights to all of the Spidey paraphernalia that's cropped up for sale recently. That's all he needs to say because with Fisk behind bars and needing cash, those rights will be in Pepper's hands within days.

The next item is chasing a hunch. He promised he wouldn't try to find out Peter's full name but he never promised not to try to find out where the boy's abilities come from. Peter's voracious appetite and strength were enough to raise Steve's suspicions. The problem is how to get what he's looking for. He tries asking JARVIS but all he gets are public records that tell him nothing, leaving him no choice but to go to Stark.

Loud music is playing in the lab where Stark is hunched over something shiny and red, poking at it with a screwdriver. Steve tries to get his attention three times before asking JARVIS to kill the music. Tony nearly drops the object in his hand, startled by the sudden silence.

He recovers quickly. "Capsicle. What brings you to the land of technology?"

"A question," Steve admits. "Those files you took from SHIELD. Was there anything about attempts to restart the super soldier program?"

Tony doesn't even bother to hide his laughter. "Steve, they never stopped, although with what happened to Osborn and Octavius, it's pretty much set them so far back it's like stopping."

"Can you explain that?" Octavius? He wonders if that could that be the 'Doc Ock' Peter mentioned.

Since Tony loves to show off, Steve is treated to an audio visual presentation of classified information about a serum called Oz and what happened when Osborn used it on himself. The resulting deformity, regardless of the fact it was temporary, was far worse than anything Schmidt suffered. The classified footage of Osborn in his Goblin form fighting with Peter makes Steve's blood run cold.

The next thing Steve learns is that Octavius is indeed Doc Ock and somehow the man has metal octopus arms. Dangerous metal octopus arms. Both Osborn and Octavius seem to have no other goal than killing Spider-man, which Steve guesses is that because like Steve, Peter is the only healthy serum test subject. The idea of a child being a test subject is sickening but it explains Peter's trust issues. What's even more sickening is how much SHIELD has managed to cover up to the point where Steve, with his very high clearance, only knew half-truths and outright lies.

He thanks Tony, his mind racing as he digests what he's learned. Steve revises his plans for Peter while he makes his way down to the gym where Clint and Matt are waiting to spar with him.

"Slumlord Millionaire," Clint is complaining loudly, quoting the Daily Bugle's morning headline.

"You paid twelve million for an apartment building, presumably in cash," Matt counters, dodging Clint's attack. "And you've got forty-seven housing code violations. Also, it's kind of funny."

"What the hell kind of lawyer are you? Aren't you supposed to be on my side?" Clint grunts as Matt lands a solid kick to his midsection. 

Matt grins and ducks under Clint's arm as he throws a punch. "I am. I told you to get a PR firm. And..." He leaps over Clint. "I've set up a meeting this Sunday with the sweet little orphans at St. Agnes. You're going to shake hands, sign autographs and play with the kids. As added incentive, I'll be there with you. I'm one of their big success stories."

"They know you're Daredevil?"

"No, they know I studied hard and got full rides to NYU and Columbia Law, which is even better than being Daredevil, isn't that right, fellow orphan Steve?" Matt waves without turning. 

"It is," Steve agrees, distractedly. He's still lost in thought, wondering what would possess Osborn to dose a fifteen year old with super soldier serum. 

Clint picks up a towel and scrubs at his face. "How'd your date with Spider-man go?"

"Did you get to first base or did he wind you up and leave you at the door?" Matt asks.

The pair of them are incorrigible. Then again, so is Steve. "I got to second base, boys. First name and the mask came off."

"That slut," Matt gasps in mock horror.

"Is he prettier than Murdock?" Clint asks. 

Matt sniffs indignantly. "I happen to be very pretty. Just because I don't let any super soldier slip his hand under my mask is no reason to insult my looks."

"That's true," Steve agrees. "Besides, Daredevil is Catholic. We had to commit before he went all the way with me."

Clint throws up his hands. "Okay, this conversation just officially turned scary. Seriously, Steve, what do you think of Spider-man?"

"He needs training." It's the easiest thing to say and reveals the least.

"Yeah? Maybe he can back me up with my Tracksuit Mafia problem --"

"No," Matt says firmly. "The press is watching you like a hawk. Your Tracksuit Mafia won't make a move as long as that's the case and neither will you. You are the upstanding, law-abiding Avenger who saw his neighbors being victimized by a ruthless landlord and did something about it."

"Damn right I am," Clint agrees.

"No, you're the idiot that got violent with a Russian mobster and forced him to sell a building for less money than said mobster wanted, thus making himself a target for retribution."

Steve grins and takes advantage of the opening. "Actually, Matt, I thought you might spend some time with Spider-man. Turns out he had a run-in with Fisk, too."

"I heard rumors about that," Matt says, his tone thoughtful. "There was speculation that Fisk actually caught him and unmasked him before nearly killing him. The one thing I know for sure is that whatever went down between them, Fisk got the IP rights to and is making a killing from Spider-man's image."

Clint's eyes go wide. "He did that? People can do that? What about my image?"

"Slumlord? I wouldn't worry too much about it and I'm not widely known outside of New York--"

"A Stark subsidiary owns them," Steve admits, cutting Matt off. "The proceeds go to charity. You can ask Pepper if you want more details." He's cursing inwardly that Matt knows so much about Peter's connection to the Kingpin. "What do you think, Matt? Would you --?"

"No."

"Matt --"

"Steven." Matt tilts his head in Steve's direction. "You said to speak up whenever I disagree. This is me disagreeing. My work in Hell's Kitchen is separate and distinct from my work as an Avenger --"

"Here we go with the lawyer talk," Clint groans. "Bad enough we have two scientists running around speaking science, now we've got the the Catholic counselor spouting off about precedents and psalms."

"Would you do it as a favor for me?" Steve asks, ignoring Clint. Sometimes, it's easiest to just ignore Clint.

Matt makes a big show of thinking about it. "I'll tell you what. Show up at St. Agnes' on Sunday in your red, white and blues and I'll do it. It'll mean the world to those kids and I suppose that's compensation enough for putting up with Spider-man for a night."

Steve suppresses a sigh. There's no chance in hell Peter and Matt will hit it off. Then again, he too, was raised Catholic and knows how to pray to St. Jude. "You're a saint, Matthew."

"I am a devil, according to my press," Matt corrects him and then points at Clint. "And that one's a slumlord. You've got your alcoholic womanizer downstairs. The only possible saint here is you and your return from the dead is being debated at the Vatican as the requisite miracle. However, since there's already a Saint Stephen, you'd probably be Saint America. Father Lantom will be happy to bend your ear on the subject this Sunday."

"You Catholics are nuts," Clint mutters. "This is why I'm an atheist."

"Godless heathen," Matt corrects him. "I'd be happy to share the good news with you, Clint."

"Share this." Clint flips him off.

Steve grabs both of them and hauls them back onto the mats. "Let's see if you two can fight as well as you run your mouths."

"Us against you?" Matt asks. 

"Think you two can take me?"

Matt's grin is feral. "Let's find out, Saint America."


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I bet you have a closet full of Captain America suits that your girlfriend doesn't have to make for you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a quick reminder for those who might be a little confused by canon-type things in this chapter. This is the Earth 1610 Spidey-verse Peter and co. In that continuity, Peter is 15, Mary Jane knows he's Spidey and so much more.

Chapter 4

 

Ohgodohgodohgod. He is so late. Like almost an hour late. And even worse, he's a complete disaster, thanks to the reason he's late, namely a skirmish with Electro. So he's late, he's nervous about being late and he's kind of tired, too, which is why Peter is mortified when he crash-lands onto the roof of the Morgan Pierpont Library and skids to a stop at Steve's feet. Even more mortifying is his yelp of pain from the burns he got during the fight.

"Peter! What happened?"

"Just another day on the job?" Peter ventures, sitting up. His costume is singed beyond repair and shredded from skidding across the asphalt both now and earlier. He looks like an ad for 'how not to be a big time super hero.'

Steve clamps a hand on his shoulder, holding him down for a better look at the burns on Peter's arms. "You're hurt, Peter."

"Just a little."

"A little? You need medical attention."

Peter makes a dismissive noise and lies through his teeth. "For this? This is nothing --"

Steve picks up a blackened shred of Peter's costume and just gives him a look. "Start from the beginning and then explain why you didn't call me for backup."

With a groan, Peter pulls out his cell phone from the hidden pocket in his Spidey suit and shows it to Steve. "Did you know that insurance plans for cell phones don't cover having your phone fried by Electro? I have no idea how I'm going to afford a new phone, either."

"Electro?"

"What? Seriously? How can you live in this city and not know there's a bad guy running around who's made of electricity? How do you not know these things? Am I the only one paying attention? I must be because I know all the crazies with the stupid costumes and weird powers." He yanks off the remains of his mask and sighs. "And once again, my costume is ruined. And once again, I don't have a spare. I bet you have a closet full of Captain America suits that your girlfriend doesn't have to make for you." Oh no. Did he really say that? Judging by the look on Steve's face, he did and now it is time to die of humiliation. Electro didn't do the job but Peter's own big mouth will.

"The uniforms come from SHIELD. Or maybe Stark. I never really thought about it, to be honest." Steve murmurs, plucking the torn mask from Peter's hand and shaking his head at the damage. "There's no girlfriend."

Peter's mouth drops open. "Wait. What? How is that possible? You're...Captain friggin' America, with the muscles and the perfect hair and the big hero thing. Every hottie with a mask should be on your speed dial. I'm me, for crying out loud, and I had the Black Cat trying to seduce me and hello, have you seen her? She's a babe even if she is kind of a thief who only steals from Fisk, so she's probably reformed or retired. Maybe I could introduce you --"

"Peter."

"You've seen the girls in the X-Men, right? They can be a little scary with the mind reading and whatnot but --"

"Peter!"

"Huh?"

"You were telling me about Electro."

"Oh." Aaaaand now he's blushing. But still. It goes against the laws of nature for Captain America not to have an equally hot, heroic girlfriend. Not that he thinks Captain America is hot. It's just a commonly accepted fact, that's all. "Um...well, he used to work for Fisk but I guess he's kind of a free agent and somebody might have sort of hired him to come after me."

Steve gapes at him. "What?!" 

Peter shrugs like it's not a big deal. It is, but these are probably piddly little problems compared to Avenger stuff. "That's what I said. I couldn't really get a straight answer out of him. Maybe the cops will. When he's conscious. Would you believe a guy who calls himself Electro was too stupid to know what happens when you mix electricity and water? Even if he didn't pass second grade science, you'd think he'd remember that's how I beat him last time." He gets to his feet, wincing from the burns on his arms and legs. "So? Are we training or what?"

"You've got electrical burns all over you," Steve says, going into stern dad mode.

"My gym teacher always says to walk it off." Bravado will be the death of him.

"All right," Steve relents. "Fine. I'll show you one thing but first you have to answer a question for me, fair enough?"

Peter narrows his eyes suspiciously. "You're not gonna ask anything personal, are you?"

Steve narrows his eyes back at Peter and asks, "How long will it take you to heal from all this?"

"Bzzzzt. Wrong question. What you really want to know is if I have a healing factor."

"Do you?"

"That would be telling."

"Have a nice afternoon, Peter. I'll be in touch," Steve says, turning away and walking towards the roof ledge. 

"You're leaving?" And he's whining at Captain America again. It's becoming a habit.

"Give me a reason to stay." Folding his arms across his chest, Steve raises his eyebrows in an unspoken challenge.

Peter blows out an exasperated sigh. "Fine. Proportional strength of a spider."

There's a long pause while Steve decides whether that's a good enough answer. "How do you know it's proportional?"

"Math and science are my life, Steve. Along with web-slinging, that is." Peter watches Steve's reaction and then hastily adds, "I can show you the calculations I used if you want. I did a series of tests and then compared them to data --"

Steve raises his hands in surrender and, to Peter's relief, comes back. "That's all right, Peter. It's something. I have my own theory about where your abilities come from but I'm hoping you'll trust me enough to tell me yourself."

"When I'm ready," Peter promises. 

"You can trust me, you know."

"I do. It's just...I don't want to put you in any danger because of me." Great. Now he sounds like a paranoid lunatic. "Not that you can't handle danger but just, why add more to your already busy schedule?"

To his relief, Steve relents. "How about I show you that one thing I promised?"

"That'd be great."

"Make a fist," Steve orders.

Peter makes a fist.

Steve circles around and comes up behind him, grabbing his wrist and positioning his arm before moving it in the slow arc of a punch. "This is how you throw a punch. You keep your shoulder up and arm like that." Steve's boot nudges his legs apart. "Keep your feet this distance and you'll get more power behind it and have better balance." Satisfied, he lets go and faces Peter again. "Hit me."

"What? No!" His Spider-sense warns him just in time to dodge when Steve takes a swing at him. "Really? We're doing this?"

"Practice. It's the only way to learn, Peter."

He barely gets out of the way when Steve lunges again. "I don't want to hit you."

"It's called 'sparring' and this is how the Avengers train." 

Peter spends the next few seconds ducking and avoiding Steve's massively massive fist. Finally, he gives in, plants himself and takes a swing at the super soldier. The blow knocks Steve on his ass. "Oh no! Oh God! Did I hurt you?"

"I wasn't expecting that much force," Steve admits, sitting up and rubbing the spot on his chest where Peter slugged him. "But that was a much-improved punch."

Peter starts to preen and then realizes, "You let me hit you, didn't you?"

"Super soldier," Steve reminds him. "I can move as fast as you do, though I must say I'm impressed by how well you managed to avoid being hit. You've got good reflexes."

His burns are killing him from all the jumping around but the praise is worth it. He has to bite his tongue to not tell Steve about his Spider-sense.

"Have you had enough for today?"

As much as it pains him to admit it, Peter nods. "I should probably get some bandages on these burns and see if MJ can fix my costume." He winces when he realizes he's let MJ's name slip. Then again, MJ will love it that Captain America knows about her. 

"You know, Peter," Steve begins and yes, he's using his dad voice, "we might be able to supply you with costumes."

"We? As in...?"

"That's right."

"But I'd have to tell you all my secrets." Peter heaves a resigned sigh. "I guess it's gonna have to be home made Spidey suits for a while longer."

Steve eyes him. "Are you sure? Stark would probably spend time with you on the design. He's already made a few modifications to Daredevil's suit."

"Speaking of Daredevil, how come his identity isn't public information if he's one of you guys?"

"That's the arrangement. Would you like the same arrangement, Peter?"

Wow, the guy does not give up. "You...you're like the guy in the car. With the candy. Stop already. Just...stop, okay?"

Steve raises his hands in surrender. "Can you meet me here tomorrow? Just for a few minutes before you go to your job?"

"Why?"

"Because I'm going to have a Starkphone for you." Before Peter can ask, Steve shakes his head. "No, there will be nothing that can track or monitor you. It'll be an ordinary Starkphone."

Peter is speechless. He is not, however, motionless. By the time he recovers his wits, he's hugging Captain America. With a yelp, Peter lets go and backs up. "Oh man. That was...Oh..I'm sorry. So, so very sorry."

"You're welcome, Peter," Steve assures him with his dad voice and holy cow, he reaches out and ruffles Peter's hair. "Be careful going home."

Peter pulls on the remains of his mask and yodels as he swings away.

 

00000000000000000000000

 

Steve wonders if he's going to have a to do list after every meeting with Peter. 

The first thing he does when he gets back to the Tower is ask Pepper for a Starkphone. The second thing he does is make a mistake. In his defense, it happens because he's still learning about modern technology but he doubts Peter will see it that way. How was he to know that giving Peter's phone number to Pepper so that she could activate and set up his phone would do exactly what he promised not to do? So now he knows that Peter is Peter Parker who lives in Forest Hills, Queens, attends Midtown High and that Peter gets a lot of text messages from his girlfriend, Mary Jane Watson, who is a very pretty red haired girl.

The next thing he does is have a conversation with Tony and while he doesn't make a mistake exactly, he comes close by finding out more about where Peter's abilities come from. He finds Tony nursing a scotch at the bar in the Tower's common area, taking a rare break from his marathon stints of lab work. 

Tony raises his glass in greeting. "Hey old man, how goes your pursuit of Spider-kid?"

The 'kid' throws him and Steve hesitates, trying to think of a response that won't break his promise to protect Peter's secret.

"I'm a genius, Steve, remember?" Tony reminds him. "JARVIS has been compiling data on Spidey since he showed his little masked face and the funny thing about adults is they don't have growth spurts. Spidey grew an inch during the last four months." He takes another sip of his drink. "Did you and he have the little super soldier talk yet?"

"No," Steve admits and he doesn't turn down the tumbler of scotch Tony slides over to him. "He's a nice kid. Smart. You'd like him --"

"I hate teenagers."

"You'd like this one. He invented the webbing he uses and the mechanism to fire it." He can trust Tony. He hopes. "There was something he told me about using your...um, open source to modify his design to make his web shooting devices more effective."

Tony grins. "You're right. I like him already. Maybe you should let me talk to him."

"He's a big fan of your work," Steve agrees and then adds with a sigh, "I had to teach him how to throw a punch yesterday." 

"Well," Tony says, smiling knowingly. "That's because he's a science nerd when he's not wearing his pajamas in public. He'd rather play with test tubes than run laps with you, I'll bet."

"I think he likes both." Steve tries the scotch and finds it to be smooth. It's probably ridiculously expensive to taste this good which makes it more of a pity that the alcohol has no effect. "Did any of the information about Osborn mention experiments on kids?"

"Norman was the first human trial of Oz and you saw how that turned out. I..." Tony trails off, getting lost in thought and then his eyes grow wide. He has the smug look of satisfaction that Steve has come to associate with Tony solving a particularly difficult problem. "JARVIS, who came first? Spider-man or Osborn's Oz-mutated self?"

"Spider-man was sighted six weeks prior, sir."

"Holy shit."

"Tony?" Steve has a vague sense of what that might mean but he needs Tony to spell it out. Badly.

"Holy motherfucking shit."

"Tony!"

"Jesus, wow. That's crazy. A complete fluke but what a fluke."

Steve reaches across the bar and grabs Tony's arm. "What was a crazy fluke?"

Tony is grinning his mad scientist grin. "Osborn hadn't reached human trials yet. Care to take a guess what eight-legged critters Oscorp was using as test subjects?"

Proportional strength of a spider. "That doesn't explain how Pe -- uh, Spider-man got his abilities."

"There's only a few ways it could have happened, Cap. They all involve some form of ingestion or absorption." Tony salutes Steve with his drink. "No wonder Osborn was pissed off. He created another you -- sort of -- and couldn't get the data he needed to recreate the result. And what a result, Steve Rogers with spider powers, whatever all those might be. He hasn't told you his life story yet, has he?"

"He hasn't enlightened me, no." And that explains why Fury has information about Peter on lockdown. "Look, Tony, this has to stay between us. He's not ready to come in yet and I promised I wouldn't snoop --"

"You liar!" Tony chuckles. 

"Into his identity," Steve finishes. "I made no promises about his abilities. But even so, If HYDRA or AIM get a whiff of how he came to be, he'll be in more trouble than he can handle."

"I swear the most excellent promise I can make." Tony waits for a beat, looking disappointed when Steve doesn't react to what is obviously another pop culture reference. "Really? You haven't seen ET yet? Get Spider-kid to watch it with you."

Steve narrows his eyes. "Tony..."

"Want to bet whether Super-Senses Murdock sniffs out the truth in seconds? Kids have more rapid respiration and heart rates than adults. Also, the kid probably smells like teenage angst and desperation." He chuckles at Steve and then grows serious. "You have my word, Steve."

"Thank you."

"Want to see what else JARVIS has put together on your little spider-brother?"

It's not snooping, Steve tells himself.

 

000000000000000000

 

Mary Jane Watson is waiting for Steve on the roof of the Morgan Pierpont Library the next afternoon. Her green eyes go wide and she starts to emit a squeal, but to his relief, refrains. "Hi," she says, cool as a cucumber.

"Hello," Steve answers cautiously. He's not supposed to know who she is.

"Peter couldn't make it," Mary Jane explains.

Steve tenses. "Is he okay?"

"He's grounded."

"Grounded?"

"Grounded," she confirms, throwing up her hands in exasperation. "He stops that Rhino guy but misses home room and part of first period so the school calls his Au-- uh, responsible adult person and here we are." Mary Jane rolls her eyes. "Grounded."

Steve smiles despite himself. "For how long?"

"Supposedly two weeks but probably it'll be less. He's got that face, you know?"

"I do." He reaches into the pocket of his jacket and pulls out the Starkphone, holding it out to her. 

Mary Jane makes a happy sound as she takes it from his hand. "This...oh my god. It's not even on the market yet. Peter's going to go..." Her eyes narrow as she glares up at him. "You activated it and had his content loaded."

"Um..." Dames. He couldn't talk to them before the serum and he still can't, even when they're more than a decade younger. It doesn't surprise him in the least when she punches him squarely in the chest and unlike Peter, the girl knows how to throw a punch. 

"Ow! You really are built like a brick sh--...um...house."

Steve sighs and runs a hand through his hair. "Look, Mary Jane --"

"You know my name?"

"From all the text messages--"

"You read my text messages?" 

"I --"

"What is *wrong* with you?"

"Nothing," Steve stammers. It takes him a moment to remind himself that he's the adult and not only that, but he's Captain America. He summons up the voice he uses to get Clint to behave. "Settle down and listen. You can yell at me after I've had my say."

She gives him a venomous look worthy of the Black Widow, folds her arms across her chest and arches an eyebrow.

"I was in the ice for seventy some years," he begins, then realizes that she probably doesn't understand what that means because of course, SHIELD hasn't made that information public. "I crash landed in the Arctic during the War, got buried in the ice and it didn't kill me, just put me to sleep, sort of, while my body healed. SHIELD found me almost a year ago and um, woke me up. That's how I'm here, now, and still biologically twenty seven years old. So all this technology? It's new to me. The phones we had back in the 1940s didn't fit in your pocket and they didn't take pictures or launch rockets or whatever Stark's fancy toys do. I was asked if I wanted the phone activated and set up and..." Steve pauses because admitting his ignorance is embarrassing. "I didn't know what that entailed."

Mary Jane starts to laugh uncontrollably. It takes her almost a minute to recover. "Nobody knows you're a big dope, do they?"

"I think some of my team mates might know."

"I'm sorry I punched you."

Steve shrugs. "Didn't hurt." And then, just to be a smart ass, he adds, "Much."

Those green eyes study him thoughtfully. "How much do you know about Peter now? He's going to want to know when he sees this."

There's a moment where he can imagine the pair of them, Peter and Mary Jane, bantering and doing their homework at the Tower and he knows he's going to make a sketch of that later. "I know his name, your name, where he goes to school and his home address."

"And that's it?"

"That's it."

"That's it," she repeats doubtfully.

Steve sighs and wonders if this kid is somehow related to Natasha. "That's it when it comes to his personal information. Anything else is what I'm speculating but I don't know for sure."

"About how he became Spider-man."

"Yes."

"He's probably not going to speak to you for a few days," Mary Jane warns him.

"I figured," Steve agrees. However, he is still Captain America and he's had time to come up with a plan since he made his mistake with the phone. "Did you finish making his suit?"

She looks horrified. "He told you I do that?" 

"He's very proud of it, actually."

That seems to mollify her. "I'm halfway finished."

"How would you like to help me make him one? Or, actually, help Tony Stark to make it?" 

Mary Jane goes still, as if moving might make him reconsider. "Are you suggesting...?"

"Right now," Steve confirms solemnly. "Peter's going to need his suit, isn't he?"

"Just to be clear," she says slowly, "You, Captain America, are asking me, Mary Jane Watson, to come with you right this very minute to the Avengers Tower so we can make a Spider-man suit for my boyfriend."

He hopes Peter is good to this girl because she's something else. "Yes, and you can call me Steve, Mary Jane."

"How is this my life?" Mary Jane exclaims, throwing her hands up and doing a little dance of joy. "I'm on a first name basis with Captain Gorgeous and I'm spending my afternoon in an Avengers sewing circle so Captain Gorgeous can bribe my boyfriend Spider-man to forgive him for being a snoopy snoop! Oh my gosh, are you blushing? Did I make you blush? You really are a big dope!"

Steve pulls out his own Starkphone, using it as an excuse to hide his red face, and sends a message to Tony, telling him they will be arriving by the secret entrance with the private elevator that goes directly to Tony's lab. "Now, since none of the other Avengers know Peter is Spider-man, you're going to have to be careful when you talk to Tony. Just to be clear, Tony's figured out on his own that Peter is a teenager. I didn't tell him so please don't punch me again."

"Because it hurt?"

"Because you might hurt yourself."

"Oh."

"My motorcycle is downstairs," he tells her, walking over to the entrance to the stairs. "You can borrow my helmet."

It doesn't surprise him in the least when she practically skips down the stairs.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Matt leans towards Clint and uses his most intimidating Daredevil voice. "Would you like me to tell you what's in this scotch? You know how much my senses can detect." 
> 
> "Don't even think about it," Clint tells him. "You told me what was in the shawarma and I'm never eating shawarma again, thanks to you."

Chapter 5

 

Mary Jane Watson just cannot believe the way her day is going. She not only met Captain America, but she punched him, now gets to call him Steve and is taking a ride on the back of his manly motorcycle all the way to the Avengers Tower, straight into what looks like a wall but is actually a hidden entrance to a garage filled with collectible cars. To say she's on overload is an understatement.

"You can let go now," Steve tells her, dismounting. "We're here." He holds her hand as she gets off the bike and flashes her a warm smile. "I'd ask if you enjoyed the ride but you made it pretty clear you did by all the, um, sound effects."

She honest to goodness blushes, recalling her whoops of joy. "I've never been on a motorcycle before." Running a hand reverently over the gleaming chrome, she adds, "Hello, gorgeous. Where have you been all my life?"

"I guess I won't get any arguments when I insist on making sure you get home safely later."

"You mean--?"

He nods. "I'd rather you didn't take the subway back home to Queens."

"Yes!" Mary Jane punches the air and then she sobers. "Are you sure? Forest Hills is a bit of a schlep from here."

"A schlep? Where on Earth did you pick that up?"

"New York," she shrugs. "Everyone speaks a little of everything these days."

"I know. I just..." Steve shakes his head, his mouth curved upwards in a smile. "Yes, I'm sure."

Mary Jane tries not to gawk at the unbelievable collection of expensive cars that they pass on their way to the elevator. She recognizes a Lotus, a Maserati and a vintage Corvette. The heck with it, she decides and gawks, to Steve's amusement. He lets her ogle for a few minutes and then gently nudges her towards an elevator. The elevator doors open and they get in but there are no buttons to press. Mary Jane watches the doors close and when it starts moving she asks, "Um, does how does it know where we're going?"

"It's run by artificial intelligence. Say hello to Miss Watson, JARVIS."

"Welcome to the Tower, Miss Watson," says a British-accented voice out of nowhere. "Your destination is one of Mr. Stark's private labs, where he is expecting you."

"He's expecting me," she repeats, awed. "Tony Stark is expecting me. Three hours ago, I was bored out of my skull listening to a lecture about the imagery in Romeo and Juliet and now I'm in an artificially intelligent elevator with Captain America and going to meet Iron Man."

"Directing the elevator is merely one of my responsibilities," JARVIS clarifies. "However, as you do not yet have an assigned clearance level, I am not at liberty to provide more information."

"How do I get a clearance level? I'd love a clearance level."

Steve smiles down at her. "You'll get one when Peter does."

"Boo. I was here first," she says, pretending to pout. "My awesome girlfriend powers should count for something."

The elevator doors open and there's Tony Stark, standing there with a brightly colored shake in his hand. He cocks his head to the side and looks her up and down. "Spider-kid just went up a notch in my estimation."

"Don't be rude," Steve scolds him, demonstrating what Peter calls his dad voice. 

"Stating the obvious, old man," Stark shrugs, unaffected by Steve's tone. He's probably heard it a lot, being who he is. "I'm sure Mary Jane Whatever here isn't offended. You're not offended, right?"

She is, a little, but she just shrugs, guessing that saying otherwise would be pointless.

"See?" He sets his drink down on a work table, scoops up a StarkPad and fiddles with it. Then he focuses on her again with an intense stare. "Look, I know a few things about your boyfriend. We can pretend I don't know them but it'll make the conversation awkward and I hate awkward conversations. I'm also not big on lying because it takes a lot of energy keeping track of which lie I told when and while JARVIS can do that -- have you met JARVIS?"

"We have been introduced, sir," JARVIS announces. "Miss Watson has not been assigned a clearance level."

"Level Two. Have an ID made and brought up for her," Stark instructs absently. He's busy typing on the StarkPad again. Mary Jane thinks he may have the shortest attention span she's ever seen and she babysits toddlers. "So I have pretty good idea of what your boyfriend does and how he does it and I know his name. No! Don't yell at me. Yell at Liz Allen and her lack of privacy settings on Facebook and that picture she posted of you and Peter Parker swapping spit in --- is this the school library, 'Brainy Jane'?" He makes a gesture with his hand and it is right there, projected onto God knows what, big as life and twice as humiliating as the first time she saw it in her Facebook feed.

Mutely, she nods and resolves to yell at Liz later. How she is going to bring this up, she does not know. But she will.

"Well, good news, Brainy, I've reset her privacy settings since she's obviously never heard about all the weirdos out there doing things with kids' pictures. You're welcome." He holds up the StarkPad and shows her Liz's new Facebook privacy settings.

"Um, thank you?" Mary Jane casts a helpless glance at Steve who looks even more confused and possibly more embarrassed than she feels. 

"So," Stark continues, fiddling with the StarkPad again, "to avoid an awkward conversation, I'm going to call him Peter and show you my assumptions for his new Spidey suit and you, Brainy, are going to tell me if I'm right. I know your boy is a little squeamish about sharing but maybe he can get over it for this."

With a flourish, Stark waves his hand and the most incredibly gorgeous Spider-man costume Mary Jane has ever seen appears in glorious 3-D. It's still red and blue, but darker and more serious looking. 

"What's it made of?" she asks, softly.

"I'm glad you asked, Brainy. Shows the nickname isn't sarcastic." He puffs himself up like he's about to give a speech. "To answer your question, it's made of an even thinner version of reinforced Stark Armor than I'm using for Capsicle's union suit. It's just as bullet and knife resistant but I specially designed it to handle all your boyfriend's wacky contortions."

"Um...he really doesn't get shot or stabbed," Mary Jane points out, hoping she can avoid a discussion of what Spider-sense is. "Mostly his costumes get wrecked from, uh, being thrown around."

"No longer a problem. My armor is friction resistant." Stark looks like he's waiting for applause. "So? What do you think?"

Mary Jane bends closer to inspect the gloves. They're too thick. So are the boots. Peter will never be able to stick to walls with them. So now she has figure out how to tell Stark without telling him why. "The, uh, boots and gloves --"

"Great, right?"

"Um..."

"Uh-oh." Stark makes a show of sniffing the air. "I smell a secret." 

Steve straightens and shoots him a look. "Tony."

"Correct my assumption, Brainy. And by the way, very few ever get to do that."

Mary Jane bites her lip and weighs the importance of the secret against Peter having a costume that might protect him better. "He needs to be able to feel surfaces."

Stark's eyes go wide. "That's natural? I thought it was some kind of tech, like the webs." He grabs the StarkPad and types furiously. "So hands...and feet?"

She nods. "That why I used Lycra Spandex."

"I just figured you used what was on sale in the craft store bargain bin."

Mary Jane's mouth drops open. "Do you know how expensive that stuff is?"

"Do you know how expensive my materials are?" Stark counters. "It's all prototype military grade."

Her eyes narrow and she marches forward, poking her finger into his chest as she speaks. "And that's nice for you but I'm in tenth grade and not a billionaire. I can't afford prototype whoziwhatsis on what I make babysitting the Kaminsky twins. Though frankly, I should get paid enough to because they are terrors. But I don't. I get twenty dollars and a raging headache. Twenty dollars pays for red Spandex. Not red and blue. Just red. So yay for you and your fancy schmancy prototype but let me tell you, you couldn't handle those Kaminsky twins even with your Iron Man armor." With a gasp, she realizes she's just told off Tony Stark and worse, poked him in the chest a few times. Maybe the floor will open up and swallow her whole...

"I think I'm crushing on Spider-man's girlfriend," Stark chuckles. 

Steve rolls his eyes at this.

Mary Jane wonders if all of the Avengers are big dopes.

Picking up the StarkPad again, Stark starts typing. "JARVIS, set up an internship for Brainy --"

"But -" Mary Jane starts to protest.

"No more toddlers for you. Oh, look at this, you really do have good grades. The nickname is most definitely not ironic. Fantastic. Pepper will put you to work."

"But what exactly would I do?"

"Who cares?" Stark shrugs. "Interns are basically useless. Besides, once your boyfriend signs up, you'll be a fixture here anyway. You might as well get paid for it and attempt to make yourself sort of useful."

"Um, okay. I'll have to get working papers."

"I have no idea what those are and it sounds like a boring detail that I don't need to know." He waves a dismissive hand. "So. Gloves and boots need a rethink. What else?"

"I usually make a little pocket for his phone, keys and emergency money." She points to the spot. "Right there." Pointing at the gloves again, she adds, "The web shooters go from here to here and you need an opening for them over here because they go under the sleeves and gloves."

"Okay. Hey, do you have his measurements? I have projections but it'll be nice to compare the data and leave a little room for him to grow."

Mary Jane pulls out her cell phone from her messenger bag and clicks on the notepad app to get Peter's latest measurements.

"What is that?" Stark's lip curls in disgust as he plucks the phone from her hand. "That's...primitive technology. I don't allow primitive technology in my building, let alone in my presence. JARVIS, get the kid a real phone."

"Can I have a StarkPad?" Mary Jane asks, since he seems to be in a sarcastic kind of giving mood. She's been wanting a StarkPad forever but they're expensive and hello, babysitting.

Stark shrugs, like it's no big deal. "What kind of home computer do you have -- no, wait. Don't tell me. I don't think I can handle it. JARVIS, two of everything and make sure it's top of the line. One set for Miss Watson and one for her boyfriend. Send it to their homes and label everything as prizes from the Stark Science Competition so their parents don't think I've done something unspeakable to their children and try to have me arrested."

"Yes, sir."

Mary Jane exchanges looks with Steve who shrugs. He's probably used to Stark's insane yet generous behavior. "Thank you, Mr. Stark --"

"Tony."

"Really?" 

"Really. Just, no more poking me in the chest."

"She punched me," Steve shrugs. "You got off easy."

Oh god, she is mortified.

Stark chuckles. "Brainy is going to fit right in around here. Any chance we can get Spider-kid in soon?"

"He's grounded," Mary Jane says in unison with Steve.

"How does a superhero get grounded?"

"By missing home room and part of first period," Steve explains, echoing Mary Jane word for word. "The school calls his responsible adult and there you are."

"There you are," Mary Jane agrees.

"Yeah," Stark sighs. "There I am."

 

00000000000000000000000000000000000

 

"Orphans sure are a lot...uh...different today," Steve ventures. 

Matt tilts his head questioningly and accepts a glass of very expensive scotch. Without effort, he determines that this one is well-aged and takes a sip. They've just finished their appearance at St. Agnes where the kids and their modern sensibilities overwhelmed Steve, who fretted over the kids' language and the things they talked about. Matt wanted to go back to his apartment to try to get work done but, as has been the case lately, he was strong-armed by Steve to come 'spend time at the Tower'. "Was your orphanage more of the Dickens variety, Steve?" 

"It was the Depression and there were nuns. What do you think?"

"Know what I think?" Clint drops down next to Matt. "I think we oughtta make the new recruits do the public appearances from now on. Once Steve gets Spider-man in here, the two of you can shake hands and kiss babies."

"I don't think parents would want us anywhere near their children." 

"They will once you get your shiny red ass in a few photos with the rest of the team," Clint assures him. 

Matt bristles. He doesn't relish the idea of being associated with the Avengers. His work is best done in the shadows and he prefers to instill fear instead of hero worship. Still, the last thing he wants is to end up demolishing Clint in yet another verbal battle right now. Especially when he's been doing it all day. "Aren't you worried that the women are going to notice I'm better looking than you?"

"In your ridiculous get-up? Not likely."

"Women like bad boys, right, Steve?"

"Doesn't get much badder than a guy dressed like a devil, Clint," Steve agrees.

Clint snorts. "Lil red devil, with his face all beat to hell most days. I'm sure they'll come running."

"I hear your ribs creaking," Matt tells him, since they are now in the verbal battle he wanted to avoid. "Been playing with your Tracksuit Mafia friends against the advice of counsel, Clint?" He can feel the shift in the air when Clint flips him off. "Seriously, behave yourself. Your hearing is next week and right now, your PR has the press working in your favor. There's a very good chance we can get a continuance with the plan we're presenting."

"What does that mean, a continuance?"

"It means the judge doesn't go either way. She'll wait to see if you complete your repairs on time and if you do, then she'll dismiss the case." Matt hears Steve shifting in his seat. "Did Foggy tell you about the progress on your matters, Steve?"

"Ten dismissed," Steve acknowledges. "Two to go. We should bring him up here for a team dinner. He's as much family as Pepper or Jane."

"You two aren't...?" Clint makes some sort of gesture at Matt, followed by a kissing sound.

Matt demonstrates the sign language that Natasha taught him.

Clint bursts into laughter. "Crash here tonight, Matt, spend some quality time with the rest of the fuck-ups and let's get drunk on Stark's booze. You can get drunk, right?"

"I can." Clint is not somebody Matt would have sought out as a friend, not really. The thing is, he's actually growing to like the lunatic who sneaks around the Tower's ventilation system for fun and tries to get the drop on Matt. "How about you, Steve?"

"Thor left a flask for you," Clint tells Steve. "Seems to me like you could use it. You've been edgy all week. What happened? Did Spider-man dump you for the X-Men?"

Matt tilts his head and gathers all the information he needs to conclude, "I'd say they had a lover's spat and it was Steve's fault. Why don't you break into Spider-man's apartment and bring him coffee cake and beer like you did with me?"

Clint snorts with laughter. "He did not."

"He did."

"My ma taught me to bring cake," Steve shrugs.

"It was good cake," Matt agrees.

"Coming from the world's pickiest eater, that's saying something," Clint chuckles.

Matt leans towards Clint and uses his most intimidating Daredevil voice. "Would you like me to tell you what's in this scotch? You know how much my senses can detect."

He's rewarded when both Clint and Steve shudder. 

"Don't even think about it," Clint tells him. "You told me what was in the shawarma and I'm never eating shawarma again, thanks to you." He grunts and takes a deep drink of scotch. "Okay, Steve, tell me you have a plan."

"And tell us whether it involves groveling."

"Captain America doesn't grovel," Steve says firmly.

Matt wonders if anybody in the room doesn't know Steve is lying.

000000000000000000000000

 

Steve's plans for groveling get put on hold two days later when NY1 reports that Spider-man just robbed a bank on the Upper West Side and brutally beat the bank manager, sending him to the hospital where his condition is critical. There is a fraction of a second where Steve can do nothing more than stare numbly at the television and then he erupts into action. His destination is Stark's lab where Stark is already reviewing the footage from the bank security cameras and various police, FBI and SHIELD surveillance cameras. "Please tell me it's not --"

"Not him. Of course it's not him. You know that and if you thought otherwise, I'm ashamed of you, which is something coming from me." Stark interrupts. "There. See that?"

Steve nods. The impostor doesn't have Peter's flexibility and he knows how to use his fists much more effectively than Peter does. In fact, the impostor is downright vicious as he beats the bank manager. Peter is not vicious. The boy seems to dislike violence and is more apt to avoid a fight than start one, even when apprehending a criminal. His cell phone rings and Steve exhales in relief when he sees Peter's name on the screen.

"It's not me," comes Peter's strangled whisper. "Please, Steve, tell me you believe me --"

"Of course it's not you. Anyone who knows you --"

"That's just it! It's like you've been saying all along. The mask, the secret identity, nobody knows me so everyone thinks it's me. They all know what Jolly Jonah says in the Bugle and -- Oh god, he's gonna have a field day." Peter is practically hyperventilating. "I have to find this guy, stop him --"

"Not by yourself. Every cop in the city is going to be looking for you," Steve warns.

"But --"

"Promise me." He makes it an order and immediately regrets adding more stress to Peter's already overflowing plate, so he adds, "Remember, it's treason to lie to Captain America."

There's a strained laugh on the other end of the line. "I'm a bad influence."

Steve glances over at Tony, who is busy doing God knows what with surveillance footage. "Here's what you're going to do. Come directly to the Tower after school --"

"I can leave now --"

"It's a school day," Steve reminds him. "And you're already grounded ---"

"Is that Spider-kid? Put him on speaker," Tony interrupts. JARVIS reacts before Steve does and the room fills with with the sound of Peter's nervous breathing. "Hi, kid. It's your pal, Tony. By the time you get out of class, I'm going to have the whole thing sussed out and Capsicle will have a plan. While you're busy doing whatever you do, Pepper is going to notify your mommy that you had an appointment for a personal tour of SI with me. Mom'll have to make an exception to being grounded for that, right? And --"

"My aunt," Peter interrupts, his tone clipped. "I live with my aunt. May Parker. She's at work." He rattles off her work phone number.

Steve is floored. It's the most personal information Peter has ever volunteered.

Even Tony seems taken aback because when he opens his mouth, he's actually respectful. "Okay. Pepper will call her and I'll have Happy come get you. If you want to bring Mary Jane, you can. The Tower is a nice, safe place for her and we like having her around."

Peter makes a noise that sounds like he's retching. 

"Peter?" Steve exchanges concerned looks with Tony. "What is it?"

"You think he knows who I am?"

"Doubtful," Tony says firmly. "The guy has no finesse. He borrowed your Spidey identity because it was convenient, not because it was personal. But just in case, we'll have Hawkeye keep on eye on Aunt May. We won't tell him why and he's good at following orders so he won't ask, right Steve?"

"Right," Steve agrees. "Just stay in class and come here after school--"

"I've gotta go." Peter's voice drops to a whisper. "I broke into the janitor's closet to call you and the security guard just noticed the lock's broken. Also, my history teacher makes a big deal when you're out of the room with a bathroom pass for too long." He disconnects.

Tony blows out a breath. "This, Steve. This is why I don't have kids."

"I'm starting to get that."

"We should call Murdock," Stark says, suddenly all business. "We've got an impostor on our hands. Who better than him to help us spot the difference?"

"Mr. Murdock in in court with Mr. Barton, per their schedules," JARVIS announces. "The case is scheduled to be heard in one hour."

"Send Matt a message," Steve instructs. Tony is right. Matt's skills are exactly what they need, assuming he's willing to help and assuming that Peter will finally relent on sharing his identity.

"Send them both a message," Tony counters. "It's time for the kid to stop playing coy. The cops don't know it wasn't him and he's going to need all the support he can get."

Steve nods in agreement. "In the meantime, I'll keep watch on Peter's aunt until Clint's available."

It's a solid plan which is why Steve is worried that it will go completely to hell.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Here's what I'm going to do," Stark tells Daredevil and Peter, "I'm going to count to three and each of you are going to say your names. Otherwise, I'm doing it for you. Ready? One. Two. Three." He waits. "Really?"

Chapter 6

 

Clint Barton is a sniper by trade. What sets him apart from other snipers, besides his badass abilities with a bow and arrow is that Clint is *observant*. He likes a high vantage point where he can see everything but where nobody will notice him. The high vantage point has a number of other benefits. He can focus on what he's doing without being bothered and let his mind wander the way a sniper's mind will, making up stories about the target to pass the time.

The thing is, he's not sure what kind of a story May Parker fits into. He's used to Fury sending him off on missions with sketchy information but this is the first time Steve's ever pulled rank and done it. It's highly suspicious and Clint's no idiot. No, really, he's not. Matt's opinion does not count.

So here sits Clint, perched on the rooftop of a fancy Tudor style apartment building in Forest Hills, Queens for God's sake, making sure that nobody comes after fifty-something-year-old May Parker while she does some sort of paper shuffling for her job at Capital, Inc. Steve may have given him nothing but Clint knows how to do research. In this case, what he turns up still doesn't shed any light on why he's here. May Parker's had a semi-interesting life. Her husband was murdered by a burglar a few months back and her brother-in-law died in a plane crash a little over ten years before that. There's a nephew -- the brother-in-law's son -- that she's raising, too. The kid is fifteen, which is the perfect age to be raising the kind of hell that might attract the attention of the Avengers. He's got a clean record though and he's an honor student, which can also mean he's the most likely to show up at school with an assault rifle and blow away his classmates. So there's kind of a story Clint just made up.

Parker works for Capital, Inc., which is some kind of mortgage broker or something to do with mortgages and it's been in business forever. The financials are clean, nothing to suggest it's a front for anything. Judging by what he's seen so far, there's nothing even remotely interesting for him to imagine about a joint that specializes in pushing papers.

So all things considered, Clint has no idea why the old broad would be in any kind of danger. If he didn't know better, he'd think this was something Murdock cooked up with Steve to put two boroughs between Clint and the Tracksuit Mafia. Murdock would be that big of a dick. Steve? Clint ponders that for a minute. Steve would do it if he thought it was the right thing to do. And Murdock does bring out the dick in Steve. Come to think of it, Murdock brings it out in everyone. Even that priest guy, Father Lantom. Nice enough guy for a padre, but Clint can tell that Lantom is a guy you do not fuck with. Like he might even be on a first name basis with God or something.

There's movement inside the building and Clint perks up only to be disappointed when the Parker lady takes a stack of envelopes to the mailbox on the corner. She looks kind of sad but then again if he had work in such a crappy little office all day, he'd be sad, too. In fact, it makes him sad just to watch.

Since he can't make up even a halfway interesting story about May Parker, Clint decides to pass the time thinking of new and interesting practical jokes to play on Murdock because there is no way this isn't his fault.

 

000000000000

 

Under other circumstances, Peter would be excited about coming to the Avengers Tower to meet with Steve and Tony Stark. He's too distracted right now to even care. What he wants more than anything else is to be out there, doing something to find the impostor who's ruining his life. Every minute that passes is another minute that the media replays the story from this morning, that the Twitter hashtag of #BadSpider continues to trend, and his reputation keeps falling further past the point of no return.

On top of being distracted, he's nervous. This is it. The Big Reveal. When he gets out of this incredibly expensive limousine and sets foot in Stark Tower, his mask comes off. Literally. Steve didn't come right out and say it, but that's the unspoken condition. And okay, Tony Stark already knows. But the rest of the Avengers? He shudders at the thought of adding more names to the list of people that know his secret identity.

The limousine drives right through a hologram of a wall and comes to a halt. Stark's driver, a really nice guy named Happy, gets out and opens the door. "We're here, kids."

Mary Jane laughs. "I feel like I'm going to a prom."

Peter feels like he's going to his doom but he summons up a smile and thanks Happy. Because really, it's wrong not to be nice to a guy named Happy.

There's a squeal and then Mary Jane is launching herself at Steve and planting a kiss on his cheek. The living legend blushes bright pink as she says, "You have no idea how much your support means to Peter. He's been a wreck all day but, you know, less of a wreck."

Steve gives Mary Jane a gentle squeeze and releases her, frowning at Peter when he gets a good look at him. "Peter, what happened?"

"Chem lab and lunch period," Peter sighs, looking down at his stained clothing. Great, he's going to meet the Avengers looking like he crawled out of a dumpster.

"Flash," Mary Jane adds. "Peter got stuck with him as his lab partner --"

"Because I'm cursed," Peter puts in.

"Because Mr. Levy thinks Flash might actually pass Chem with your help," she corrects him.

"Because he's inhaled too many incorrectly mixed compounds teaching Chem over the years," Peter says.

Steve just shakes his head and thankfully doesn't ask for details about what happened at lunch. "If it makes you feel better, things like that did happen to Captain America when he was your age."

"Really?" Peter stares wide-eyed up at his hero.

"His name was Colin and he set my notebook on fire with a Bunsen burner," Steve admits with wistful smile. "Bucky made Colin drink the water from the toilet in the boys' room for that."

"You two are a pair of goofballs," Mary Jane tells them as they get into the elevator.

Steve grins and shrugs. "How are you holding up otherwise, Peter?"

Peter sighs. "Bad Spider is trending on Twitter. You're lucky, Steve. Nobody ever called you a menace."

"I bet the Nazis did," Mary Jane says. "They hated him."

"The Nazis hated *everybody*."

"Speaking of people who hate everybody, I seem to recall a few unfriendly editorials about me in the Daily Bugle," Steve puts in, sidestepping any discussion of the Nazis. "That editor is a piece of work. I wouldn't put much stock in what he's saying about you or about the Twits."

"Tweets," Mary Jane corrects him with a laugh.

The elevator doors open onto a what looks like a recreational space with floor to ceiling windows, sofas, a giant TV screen and a bar.

"I'm afraid you'll have to get off here, Mary Jane," Steve tells her. "It's just for now, until we can raise your clearance level. There are soft drinks in the fridge behind the bar and a wifi connection--"

"No worries, Steve, I have homework," Mary Jane says brightly but Peter knows she's disappointed. He also knows he'll tell her everything later anyway. She waves as the doors close and Peter starts to feel his nerves getting the better of him.

When the elevator doors open again, they reveal the most incredible lab Peter has ever seen. There are a pair of robots whizzing around, one of which is wearing a dunce cap and holding a fire extinguisher. In the middle of the chaos are Tony Stark and a man Peter doesn't recognize. The guy is wearing red-tinted sunglasses and it occurs to Peter that the guy is blind.

"You must be Spider-man," the blind guy says, holding out his hand.

"Um..." Peter backs up a step, crashing into what he first thinks is a brick wall but is actually just Steve.

"I'm Daredevil."

"Uh..." Daredevil is blind? No, it has to be a joke. Because that is his luck. The Avengers are playing a joke on him, right?

Daredevil, if it's really him, tilts his head slightly and smirks. "Oh, Steven Grant Rogers. Shame on you. You didn't tell us that the reason you were having such a hard time recruiting Spider-man is because he needed working papers to join."

"I still don't know what those are," Stark complains. "Would your remark actually be funny if I did?"

"My remark was hilarious, Stark. New York State Labor Law requires minors between the ages of 14 and 17 to have special documentation called working papers and limits their hours and types of work they can perform," Daredevil recites before turning his head back towards Peter. "I'm a lawyer."

"Do...do I need a lawyer?" Peter backs away from Steve. "Y-you're not gonna make me turn myself in until we find the guy running around in my costume?"

"I wouldn't recommend it," Daredevil responds. "These guys may not respect the need for a secret identity but believe me, I do."

Peter swallows hard. "Do I...do I tell you my name?"

"Do you want me to tell you mine?"

"We've both seen each other's face. Um. I mean I've seen yours and..." Great. Now he's just insulted Daredevil, who is friggin' blind!

"I could pick you out of a crowd," Daredevil says. "You're about five five and you've got a very distinctive heartbeat. It sounds a lot like Steve's actually." He tilts his head towards Steve. "Is he related to you in some way?"

"If you think of Steve as a 1940s Sherman tank and Spider-kid as an M1-Abrams, yeah, they're related," Stark tells him.

Daredevil shrugs. "I have no idea what that means."

"It means the kid's powers --"

"Are really fascinating," Peter cuts him off. "But --"

"He's shy," Stark chuckles. "It's adorable. Kind of like you, not wanting no explain how you do your thing, Ma--"

"Yes," Daredevil interrupts him. He turns back to Peter. "Do you always smell like glucose and sodium hydroxide?"

"We were doing the Blue Bottle in chem lab today," Peter tells him, looking down at the huge blue stain on the front of his shirt. "My lab partner is an idiot."

Stark grins. "JARVIS, get the kid a clean shirt."

"Yes, sir," responds a British voice out of nowhere.

"You also smell like ketchup, tartar sauce and mustard," Daredevil continues. "Lunch period get out of hand?"

"My lab partner is still an idiot at lunch time."

"It seems to me that your lab partner needs to have a run of very bad luck. I can teach you a few tricks I used on people who thought it was fun to tease the blind kid." Daredevil flashes him a wicked grin. "They only ever tried once before they learned their lesson."

"Um, thanks?"

Stark snorts a laugh. "Look at these two knuckleheads, Steve, dancing around their true identities." He makes air quotes around the last two words.

"It's disappointing, really," Steve agrees and he makes a face that conveys just how disappointed he is. "I thought we were past this, gentlemen."

"Secret identities are secret for a reason, Steve," Daredevil says, apparently not caring that Steve is disappointed but maybe that's because he can't see the face Steve is making. "You're asking me to trust mine to a kid and you're asking him to trust a complete stranger with his."

"You trusted Barton," Stark points out. "Here's what I'm going to do. I'm going to count to three and each of you are going to say your names. Otherwise, I'm doing it for you. Ready? One. Two. Three." He waits. "Really?"

Peter shrugs.

Daredevil smirks.

"Fine," Stark huffs. "Time to bring out the big guns." He strolls across the room, opens a closet door and comes back holding the Spider-man costume to end all Spider-man costumes. "See this, kid? This is yours when you tell Devil's Food Cake over there your name. Until you do, you're stuck with the costumes your girlfriend makes you and I know for a fact she can't afford blue Spandex this week."

Daredevil's mouth is twitching.

Peter sends a desperate glance in Steve's direction but the disappointed face is still there. No assistance will be coming from Captain America. The costume is so incredible. He would look like a big time superhero in it. Peter feels his resolve crumbling.

"See this?" Stark points to the spider emblem on the chest. "It's extra reinforced armor plate so when people inevitably shoot at this tempting target, they won't kill you. And look at this." He raises the arms to show what some sort of fabric designed to look like webbing running from under the arms to the torso. "You'll be able to glide with these and it'll improve your aerodynamics."

Peter bites back a whimper.

"Your eye plates are infrared now and shatter resistant."

"That's a nice suit," Steve remarks, breaking his silence.

Peter blows out a sigh. "Peter Parker."

There's a long pause in which Peter feels like Daredevil is going to leave him hanging. "Matt Murdock," Daredevil says grudgingly and then adds, "Esquire."

"See? You're still alive," Steve says, clapping Peter on the back. "Now that we've got the pleasantries out of the way, I can tell you what we've put together about the impostor."

"Sorry, DD, this part of the presentation is visual," Stark says, gesturing. Footage of the impostor leaving the bank appears. "This is patched together from a bunch of different cameras so the quality isn't the best. Here. Did you see that?"

Peter leans closer as the footage plays again. He sees the impostor run into a crowd and vanish. "Where'd he go?"

"Let me slow it down for you."

The footage seems to be playing frame by frame and that's when Peter sees what Stark is showing him. "He's a shapeshifter?"

"Holographic projection," Stark says. "It took doing but I found the low level energy spike at the moment he changes appearances. Matt, all you missed was footage of a guy in a Spidey suit disappearing in a crowd. There's no audio for you to work with."

"I don't need audio," Matt tells him and he sounds a little pissed. "Peter, did you have a run-in with Max Dillon last week?"

"Um....?"

"Electro?" Matt clarifies.

"Yes."

"He worked for Fisk. Still might. I've heard rumors that the Chameleon was also doing errands for Fisk," Matt says.

"The Chameleon? Really?" Stark rolls his eyes. "Where do they come up with this stuff?"

Matt tilts his head in Stark's direction. "Really, Iron Man?" Turning back to Peter, he continues, "Supposedly, his bailiwick is corporate espionage but it could be that he's branching out."

"So...this is personal?" Peter looks up at Steve. "As in someone with a mad-on for Spider-man?"

"I'm sorry to interrupt," come the smooth, cultured tones of JARVIS, "but there are police reports of the execution of an un-identified victim by Daredevil. A BOLO has been issued."

Matt's jaw clenches. "Yes, Peter, it's personal. For both of us."


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains references to slightly altered versions of canon from events taking place in Ultimate Spider-man issues 9-12 (the "Learning Curve" arc) and issues 20-21. Note: the spelling of Jean DeWolff in the Ultimate-verse is DeWolfe. 
> 
> **********************
> 
> Matt tilts his head towards Peter. "You're staying out of this."
> 
> "Make me," comes the juvenile retort.

Chapter 7

 

Matt is a lawyer, which means that by virtue of his profession, he has been trained  to solve problems in a precise and analytical way. The first step is understanding the nature of the problem, which typically involves research for statutes and case law. Once he has this information, he can plan his attack, taking into account each obstacle and arguing it into non-existence for a jury or a judge. The same holds true for his other vocation, though his research methods are supplemented by beating the answers out of unwilling informants. Joining the Avengers means he has access to Tony Stark who has access to any number of resources that a private citizen should not have. It also means he has access to Stark's AI and can bypass Stark completely in his quest for information. He's done it sparingly in the past few weeks, testing the boundaries of his membership in this team of misfits. So far, there have been no objections or, in fact, any notice taken of his use of such precious resources for things that are not Avengers business. This may be because Matt has been cautious. With the Chameleon and Fisk in the picture, framing him for murder, Matt discards caution for a more direct approach.

"JARVIS," Matt always feels a little strange addressing an AI like a person and even moreso ordering the AI around like it's a paralegal in front of Stark. "Get me everything you can on the Chameleon and I'd like the name of the person I supposedly murdered, along with any background information you can find. You know the type of information I usually require."

"Yes, Mr. Murdock," the AI responds.

"Well, look who's misusing Avenger resources," Tony chuckles.

"Feel free to deduct the cost from Steve's legal bill," Matt shoots back. "And I'll be certain to bill those hours at my usual hourly rate instead of the discount I've been giving you."

Matt hears Steve barely hold back a sigh. "Of course you can use our resources, Matt. You're part of the team."

There is the faint hiss and heated air over to Matt's left, which indicates that JARVIS is displaying something that he cannot see. "The information regarding the Chameleon is rather limited, I'm afraid, Mr. Murdock. I have been able to locate an expired Russian passport in the name of Dmitri Anatoly Smerdyakov Kravinoff--"

"Kravinoff as in Kraven the Hunter?" Peter interrupts. His heartbeat speeds up slightly and Matt waits for the information to begin flowing.

"That is correct, Mr. Parker. They are half-brothers."

There is a rustle of fabric and the shifting of the huge figure that is Steve Rogers. "Kraven the Hunter?"

Matt shrugs and he hears Stark do the same.

"Seriously?" There's an indignant huff from Peter. "I know there aren't alien invasions happening every day preventing you from knowing what the heck is going on around you. I mean... Wow. Just. Wow. Do you people not watch the news, like, ever? Kraven the Hunter. He's the big blowhard who decided to hunt me on live TV --"

"What?" Steve is a perfect combination of earnestly outraged and horrified. His reaction tells Matt that the National Treasure has, for all intents and purposes, adopted the Kid Superhero. Or perhaps that's the Kid Super Soldier. Their heartbeats are equally strong, though Peter's beats a tad faster due to his age, but it's enough of a tip off that Peter is not a mutant. Since those abilities aren't natural, Peter has most likely been enhanced which begs the question of who would do such a thing to a kid. Matt wonders if Steve knows the answer and, if not, whether finding the answer is something Daredevil needs to do. He does not like the idea of someone experimenting on children.

Matt hears Peter run a hand through his hair. "Uh, JARVIS?"

"Yes, Mr. Parker?"

"Um..." There's a nervous swallow, as if he's about to ask the AI to harm him in some way. "Can you call me Peter? I feel like I'm in trouble when you call me Mr. Parker."

"Over-ride authorized," Tony says and then explains, "Respect is programmed in. If only we could do that with the rest of the world."

"Um, whatever." Peter exhales sharply, clearly a little frustrated though it's unclear whether it's the comment about respect or that he needs to explain what a Kraven is. "JARVIS, do you by any chance have the CBC news footage from last April?"

"Of course, Peter. Is there a particular segment you wish to see?"

"Just the live footage of my fight with Doc Ock outside Hammer Industries and that clown Kraven showing up. If it's not too much trouble." The last line is delivered with the perfect amount of teenage snark and sarcasm.

"Make sure you turn on the video description, JARVIS," Matt puts in, contributing his own snark and sarcasm to the mix. "You do have that programmed in, don't you, Stark? I'd like to believe there's something in this Tower that's ADA compliant."

"Bite me, Ray Charles." Stark flips him off for good measure. "Clint says you know how many fingers I'm holding up."

There is a faint hiss as the video begins to play. Traci Hale, a local reporter for CBC news breathlessly describes a fight between Spider-man and someone named Otto Octavius in front of the New Jersey headquarters of Hammer Industries. Octavius is there, apparently, to kill Hammer and Spider-man is there to stop him. That in itself is odd. Peter's accent is pure Queens and, to Matt's knowledge, he's never been spotted outside the five boroughs.

"Justin Hammer? You saved Justin Hammer? Really, Peter?" Stark sighs.

The reporter gasps and then giggles as the descriptive video explains that Spider-man has just webbed Octavius' pants and yanked them down.

"I thought you were kidding about pantsing Octavius," Steve says and he sounds horrified, though Matt can't be sure whether it's because of the visual or the infantile yet effective strategy. He'll have to keep that in mind for future use. "You really did. And on television."

Stark makes a disgusted noise. "The man is wearing tighty whiteys."

Matt listens to the reporter and descriptive video describe in detail how, after being thrown around -- bounced off of cars, in fact -- Spider-man rips off one of Octavius' metal arms and finally subdues him. It's exhausting just to listen to the descriptions. He can only imagine what the experience must have been like for a young teenager.

The foolish woman then decides to try to interview Peter but is interrupted.

"Our time has come insect," announces a gruff voice that has an Australian accent with a hint of Russian underneath. "Our battle is now." The descriptive video explains that the speaker is reality TV star Kraven the Hunter. Matt abhors reality television which explains his lack of knowledge of this particular obnoxious braying jackass.

"Uh, whatever," comes the recorded voice of Spider-man, sounding equal parts uncertain, exhausted, irritated and a little bit bored.

An exchange follows in which Kraven insists on fighting, despite increasingly upset protests from Peter. Finally, Kraven attacks and Peter lays him out with one punch. The recording stops playing.

"Well, that was edifying on a number of levels," Matt muses.

"They canceled his stupid show after that," Peter shrugs. "Which maybe explains why the Chameleon's after me but not why he hates you."

Matt shakes his head. "No, I think that's just icing on the cake. This has to do with Fisk." He phrases the question carefully, leaving it purposefully ambiguous in order to draw out a detailed answer. The technique is called direct examination and it's part of his arsenal of lawyer's tools. "How did your path cross with his?"

Peter's heartbeat speeds up but he doesn't lie. "I...it's a long story. Kind of long and humiliating, actually --"

"Peter," Papa Steve moves closer to his protege and speaks softly, encouragingly. "You can tell us anything."

There's a long pause where Peter cycles through a series of emotions. "It really is a long story and it's not really, um, relevant. But the important part is that I screwed up, Fisk caught me, his goon, Electro, uh, electrocuted me, Fisk took off my mask while I was unconscious and they threw me out the window of Fisk's fancy skyscraper."

Matt makes a mental note to train with the boy when time permits. He's sure that Steve will teach Peter well enough, but Peter may benefit from some of Stick's harsher lessons. Putting that thought aside, Matt recalls what may be a relevant fact. "Was that the same mask they found on the body of Frederick Foswell?" He adds for Steve and Tony's benefit, "Foswell was one of Fisk's men."

"Yeah," Peter admits. He sounds sad and sheepish at the same time. "I, um, learned a few things the hard way so when I went back --"

"Peter!" admonishes Papa Steve.

"--I used my brains as well as my spider strength," Peter finishes peevishly. "Before the, uh, unmasking, I got a good look at his security system. You'd be surprised how much information you can get when you lie to a manufacturer and use a phony e-mail address." He pauses and Matt gives him an encouraging nod because, unlike Stark who hacks secure government databases with ease, Peter's tactic is one he would use. "I learned how the information was recorded and stored so I was able to get the discs that had my face and a bunch of other incriminating stuff, like Fisk crushing Foswell's skull with his bare hands. Oh, and I beat the snot out of Electro and those Enforcer guys."

Matt refrains from mentioning how 'those Enforcer guys' vanished from the face of the Earth soon afterward. Instead, he continues examining his witness. "And what did you do with those incriminating videos, Peter?"

There's a frustrated puff of breath. "I sent copies to the Daily Bugle and Captain DeWolfe. Turns out Fisk owns a majority stake in the Bugle so they just vanished and I guess Captain DeWolfe didn't do anything with them either."

"No," Matt agrees. "She was in Fisk's pocket."

"But...but she was the one who pointed me to Fisk!" Peter protests.

"They were playing you. She was taken into custody but her arrest wasn't publicized," Matt goes on. "That leads me to believe she's informing on Fisk."

"Actually, Mr. Murdock," JARVIS says and the AI's tone sounds almost regretful. "Captain DeWolfe is dead. She is the victim whose identity you asked me to secure."

Research has once again done its job. He knows who and he knows why. "Peter, do you still have those videos?"

"Yes."

"Good. Bring them to my office tomorrow." He gives Peter the address. "They'll go nicely as a side dish when I serve up the Chameleon tonight."

"Can I help?" Peter asks.

"No," Matt tells him, "you need to let me handle this."

"But --"

"Have you ever beaten information out of someone who didn't want to talk?" Matt asks.

The pause is answer enough. "Um, no, but --"

"Would you beat information out of someone who doesn't want to give it to you?"

"No!"

"I would," Steve says, quietly. "I have."

"And you're sitting this one out, too," Matt informs him.

Steve inhales deeply through his nose which means there's a lecture coming. "Need I remind you that the police are looking for you, Matthew?"

"And need I remind *you*, Steven, that that's nothing new for me."

"Or me," Peter chimes in.

Matt tilts his head towards the boy. "You're staying out of this."

"Make me," comes the juvenile retort.

Oh, he can. He was taught by Stick and now he's going to impart some of that wisdom because it just might save Peter's life. Matt's sparred with Steve and knows he can move almost as fast as the super soldier. Peter may have the speed, but he lacks the experience. There's no way Peter will avoid --

Except he does.

Time and again, Peter manages to evade every single attack.

"How?" Matt asks. "Are you sensing the disturbance in the air when I move?"

"More like a disturbance in the Force," Peter explains vaguely. His voice comes from directly above Matt, where he's clinging to the ceiling.

Matt can almost hear the frown when Steve scolds, "Peter."

The boy lands gracefully in front of Steve and again, there's a long pause. It's obvious he's as secretive about his abilities as Matt and Matt heartily approves. However, it's also obvious that Peter wants to please Steve and seems to seek his approval. His breathing and his heartbeat give him away. "I can sense when I'm in danger."

Stark reacts first by throwing something small and rectangular at Peter.

Matt intercepts and catches the object which turns out to be a cell phone. "Don't be an ass."

"Science," Stark informs him archly. "That was a test. Seriously, kid, you can't not elaborate on that statement."

"Leave him alone," Matt snaps. "Why would he share that information with you when the first thing you did is treat him like a lab rat?"

"Uh, thanks," Peter says gratefully.

Matt nods and makes his decision. "These are the rules. I tell you to be quiet, you don't make a sound. You follow my lead and do as you're told. If breaking bones and blood upset you, keep it to yourself. Do not throw up in my presence. Above all, no crying --"

"Hey --"

"If I can make hardened murderers cry and piss themselves," Matt tells him, "I have no doubt just watching me do it would upset you. You're a nice kid, Peter. Possibly too nice for what we're about to do. Go suit up and meet me on 51st and 11th Avenue."

Peter grabs his suit and takes off.

"I'm coming too," Steve says and it's not his affectionate dad voice. No, this is his hardened soldier Captain America voice. The one that gives orders. "The police are looking for both of you. Having me there should defuse any potentially tricky situations."

Matt curses silently. He's now leading a parade in Hell's Kitchen or worse, Steve will decide to play leader. "Will you be wearing your spangles? I'm sure that'll impress the remnants of Fisk's crew."

"Unless you'd like to borrow it," Steve shoots back.

"Too tight in the ass." His snarky comment is rewarded by a muffled snort from Stark.

"That's because you've been too injured to keep up with your exercise." End of argument. "I'm calling in Clint, too. His skills and yours complement each other and it'll be nice to see how that works in the field."

Forget parade. This is the New Orleans Mardi Gras. "No. No to you Avengers tagging along and no to --"

"You're an Avenger," Steve points out.

"I'm a vigilante."

"And you're stubborn. Need I point out how well that's worked out for you in the past?"

"I'd say it worked out. I got beer and coffee cake."

Steve just heaves a weary sigh.

Matt knows arguing is pointless. "Are you coming too, Tony?"

"Ooh, can I?" Tony snorts before adding, "Amusing as that might be, no."

Matt sends up a prayer of thanks. He's already dreading what he's going to need to confess to Father Lantom about this fiasco.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Peter? As in Parker? As in May Parker who I've been babysitting all day?" Clint asks. 
> 
> Peter groans. "A little louder. They didn't hear you Hackensack."

Chapter 8

 

Steve finds Peter standing on the rooftop of the building on the northwest corner of 51st Street and 11th Avenue. Apparently, his arrival does not equate with danger because Peter startles when he jumps over from the adjacent building. Peter waves and bounces over to greet him like an over-eager puppy. The hero-worship is flattering, but Steve hopes Peter gets over it soon because it's also embarrassing.

"How do you like the new suit?" Steve asks. There is a world of difference between the home-made version and Tony's and it's reflected in the way Peter is carrying himself.

"It's great!" Peter gushes. "I was a little worried about the gloves but I tested them on the way over here. You don't have to worry about me sliding off a building and turning myself into street pizza. That almost happened once. Mary tried out a more expensive kind of Spandex and I slid down one of those fancy glass buildings. I was trying to get away from a police helicopter so you can just imagine how embarrassing that was."

"Why were the police after you?" 

"It was Tuesday?" Peter shrugs, cocking his head as he takes in Steve's uniform. He's wearing the dark blue stealth suit, which he prefers to the symbolic one. "Nice costume."

"Suit," Steve corrects him. "We're not playing superhero, Peter. We *are* superheroes."

"I'd like to think so but --" He cuts off mid-sentence, leaps to his right and twists, catching an arrow in mid-air and sending a jet of webbing over Steve's shoulder. Steve turns and shakes his head as Peter yanks Clint forward, his hands webbed together. Peter angrily waves the arrow in Clint's face. "You're Hawkeye, right? Are you nuts? You could put somebody's eye out with this thing!"

"Stark told me you'd sense it coming," Clint shrugs. 

"H-he what?" Peter snaps the arrow in half with two fingers and gets into Clint's face. "What if he was wrong? You could have hurt me! What kind of an idiot are you?"

"A big one." Matt appears out of the shadows. He leans over Clint's hands and sniffs the webs. "Is this your webbing, Peter? I've been noticing it the past few months in random places around the Kitchen."

"Peter? As in Parker? As in May Parker who I've been babysitting all day?" Clint asks. 

Peter groans. "A little louder. They didn't hear you Hackensack."

Steve stifles a groan of his own. Maybe he's wrong. Maybe these *are* costumes and they're all playing at being superheroes. 

Clint looks Peter up and down. "Jesus. You're what? Fifteen years old? No wonder your aunt looks so sad. She must freak out every time --"

"She doesn't know," Peter snaps, cutting him off. 

"Because of what happened to your uncle?" Clint guesses. 

Steve doesn't know what that means but it's apparently a sore point for Peter who webs Clint's mouth shut. He's practically vibrating with anger and anxiety as he turns to Steve. "This...this is exactly what I didn't want to happen when I told you my name."

"Welcome to the club," Matt tells him. "This is what they do."

"What a bunch of yentas!" Peter moans.

"Enough." Steve injects as much command as he can into the one word and he's happy when everyone, Matt included, snaps to attention. "It's code names in the field, gentlemen. Spider-man, Hawkeye won't be much good to us if he can't use his hands or his mouth. Is there anything you can do about getting that webbing off?"

Peter nods, sprays fresh webbing over the existing webbing and then yanks it off of Clint's face. Clint yelps and gives him a dirty look. There's a moment of hesitation and then Peter frees Clint's hands. "I modified the formula for situations kind of like this."

"Hawkeye, I trust you'll refrain from discussing classified information in unsecure locations in the future?" Steve continues. He doesn't have a reason to scold Matt and since Matt can't see his face, he simply says, "And I trust you'll continue to follow protocol, Daredevil."

Instead of the snarky response he was expecting, there's silence.

Steve turns.

Daredevil is gone.

 

000000000000000000000000

 

Matt has no qualms about leaving the Cirque du Stupidity behind. There will be other opportunities to train Peter and those will be, preferably, far away from the prying eyes and wagging tongues of the Avengers. He did his own research on Peter Parker before taking to the rooftops and it's made him wonder whether anyone who comes from something other than tragedy ever puts on a mask. Pushing those thoughts aside, Matt focuses on the task at hand.

Fisk's lieutenant vanished before Fisk was arrested but there are others who were also high enough on Fisk's food chain to be carrying out his orders from prison. The first person on his list is the person who's been most actively seeking to fill the vacuum, a gentleman going by the name of Hammerhead. Matt's been hearing rumors about Hammerhead for weeks and has been carefully picking off some of his junior enforcers while gathering information. As a result, he knows exactly where to find Hammerhead.

There is a high school on West 49th Street between 10th and 11th Avenues. Hammerhead's operation is run out of an unassuming row home directly across the street from where hundreds of inner city school kids gather. Matt has been planning this for a while and knows that Hammerhead has a guard stationed on the roof. He crouches, locates the guard and prepares to attack.

Just as he lunges, he hears Peter's heartbeat approaching fast along with an odd 'thwipping' sound and then he finds himself kicking a web-wrapped body. 

"Forget something?" Peter asks.

Matt tilts his head. Steve's powerful heartbeat is somewhere in the vicinity of 53rd Street and Twelfth Avenue and Clint is still at 51st Street and 11th Avenue.

"I ditched them, too," Peter explains. "They're nice and all but this isn't their kind of, um, thing."

Matt favors the boy with a smile because ditching his hero, Captain America, took cojones. It also took skill, since both Avengers are highly trained compared to Peter. "There are six more guards inside. Follow my lead."

He opens the door leading to the stairs and pauses, verifying the locations of the guards. As he goes inside, he realizes that Peter isn't using the stairs but is instead climbing along with walls. Any doubts he had about Peter after hearing the story about being caught by Fisk start to ease. The boy is a fast learner. 

Matt takes out his baton and points it in the direction of the first guard. He holds up a finger, warning Peter to wait because the guard is coming towards them. The guard is well over six feet tall, has the confident lope of a body builder and the scent of a chain-smoker who also does a little recreational marijuana. He's bulky which means he can punch but Matt knows the guard won't be able to get a punch in.

A jet of webbing goes zipping past just as Matt hurls his baton at the guard. There is the satisfying thunk of baton hitting skull and the muffled sound of the guard's cry of pain though a web gag proves Peter's aim to be true. More webbing is used to immobilize the guard, pinning him to the wall.

Matt tilts his head upwards, where Peter is clinging to the ceiling and gives him a silent thumbs-up of approval. He'll have fewer bruises tomorrow thanks to Peter and more importantly, together they are an efficient, quick team. They go through the remainder of the guards in rapid succession, taking each one down together. One heartbeat remains at the northern most end of the house.

With a gesture, Matt asks Peter to remain at ceiling level as they approach the office where Hammerhead is busily typing on a computer keyboard. Soft jazz music plays in the background. He can smell a gun, along with a cooling cup of coffee and the new Tom Ford cologne. Hammerhead's heartbeat is slow and steady, which means he's unaware that his men are down.

Matt kicks the door open and ducks just as Hammerhead opens fire. The man is fast, Matt will give him that but now he's unarmed because Peter just took his gun and webbed him to the wall. Matt is gratified to confirm that Peter didn't web Hammerhead's mouth shut when the man unleashes a stream of invective at both of them. The man has a the faintest hint of a Russian accent underneath the Jersey City.

"Are you finished?" Matt asks, pleasantly.

Hammerhead launches into another tirade about costumed freaks and payback.

"That's enough of that." Matt comes in close and presses his baton into the soft spot under the man's chin. "Tell me where to find the Chameleon."

"Try Petland." It's a cocky answer and Matt expects a few more just like it before he gets what he wants.

He hopes Peter isn't squeamish because this cross-examination of a hostile witness is going to be bloody. Matt softens Hammerhead up with a few blows to his stomach and then aims a right cross to the man's face. That's when things take a turn for the weird because Matt damn near breaks his hand doing it.

Hammerhead starts laughing.

Matt tries again and this time, he breaks two fingers and quite possibly sprains his wrist.

"How about you, Spider-man? Wanna take your shot?" Hammerhead dares him.

Matt tilts his head in Peter's direction, silently encouraging him to do it but Peter doesn't move. Instead, he climbs down from the wall and crosses over to Hammerhead's computer.

"Hey! Get away from that --"

"Uh-oh. Looks like I need a password to get into this. I'll bet a bright guy like you keeps his on a Post-It under the keyboard. Am I right, Flat Top?" Matt hears Peter lift the keyboard and snicker. "Godfather01? Really?"

He's still trying to make sense of what Peter means by 'flat top' and why Hammerhead's skull is so damned hard.

"Let's see." Peter starts opening desk drawers. "Blank discs. Blank discs. Oh, there you are. Hello." There's a whir, followed by the sound of data being burned onto a compact disc.

"You're gonna die for this, you scrawny little bastard."

"That's assuming we let you live," Matt hisses. 

"Spider-man doesn't kill nobody and you're not in any shape to try with that busted hand."

"Things have changed."

Hammerhead snorts. "Damn right they have." There is a crash of metal meeting drywall and it takes Matt a heartbeat of his own to realize that the metal is Hammerhead's skull. The crazy sonofabitch is slamming his head against the wall in an attempt to get free from the webbing. A bleeding scalp doesn't slow Hammerhead down in his escape plan. Whatever is behind the wall is hollow, so Matt guesses it's a closet and that means Hammerhead's plan stands a good chance of success.

"Hey!" Peter calls out just as Hammerhead crashes through the wall. The webbing is still holding bits of the wall to him, but he's free and he's charging like an enraged bull.

Matt shoves the pain aside and moves into action, launching himself upwards and aiming for places that he hopes aren't made of metal. Unfortunately, his kick connects the sticky webbing coating Hammerhead's torso and he becomes stuck himself. Hammerhead takes the opportunity to head butt Matt's chest, knocking the breath out of him.

Peter sprays more webbing and Matt takes advantage of the second or two where the existing webbing is rendered wet enough to free himself. With a rough shove, Peter pushes Matt across the room, just as Hammerhead charges again.

There's a loud 'clang' of metal meeting metal and Matt knows by the Sousa march heartbeat that Steve has just entered the fray. The 'clang' was Hammerhead's skull colliding with Steve's shield. Judging by Hammerhead's groan of pain, whatever his skull is made of, it is not as strong as vibranium.

"I believe Daredevil had some questions for you," Steve says.

Hammerhead spits at him.

Steve sighs regretfully and his tone remains polite. "There are other bones in your body besides your skull, sir, and in case you neglected to study your history, I'm known to be a rather strong fellow."

The response he receives is in Russian.

"He just said something very unflattering about your mother, Cap," Barton says strolling in. "What happened to your hand, Lil Devil?"

"The guy's got a metal head," Peter tells him. "And check it out."

Matt has no idea what they're talking about but Barton clears it up for him by saying, "He looks like that guy from the Dick Tracy comics." 

Matt vaguely remembers a cartoon villain called... Ah. Flattop. Now that makes sense.

"Here's how this is going to go," Steve intones and he's not being polite anymore as he shakes Hammerhead like a terrier shaking a rat. "Daredevil is going to ask you a question. You're going to answer it. Otherwise, you're going to find out just how hard a super soldier can punch an ordinary guy with an aluminum skull.'

"It's steel, you fu -- oooof!"

"And you're going to speak respectfully," Steve adds. "I don't much care for that kind of language."

In short order, they learn a few things. Hammerhead has no connections whatsoever to the Kingpin, other than wanting the man's former throne. He does have connections to the Russian mob, who are backing him. The Chameleon, being of Russian descent himself, sometimes does work for Nicolai Yanovskiy, the heir apparent to Vladimir Ranskahov's old empire. Since Hammerhead wants that piece of the pie as well, he has no qualms about giving up Yanovskiy's whereabouts.

"Spider-man," Matt calls out. "Have you found enough dirt on our friend here so that we can drop him off at the local precinct?"

"I've found an entire landfill's worth," Peter confirms. There is the scratch of a pen on paper and then the rustle of an envelope being opened and discs being slipped inside. He sprays some more webbing onto Hammerhead, attaching the envelope to him. 

Steve leans in close to Hammerhead and reads what Peter wrote aloud. "This mobster has been delivered fresh to your doorstep for indictment, courtesy of your friendly neighborhood Spider-man and friends."


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Who here has spent any amount of time in a Dumpster?" Clint asks, raising his hand. "Show of hands."
> 
> Matt's hand goes up and so does Peter's. Steve just looks confused.
> 
> "It's a rite of passage," Matt explains. "Keep hanging out with us and fighting our kinds of fights and you'll end up in a Dumpster eventually. It might actually do you some good."

Chapter 9

 

Peter is bouncing with excitement as Steve climbs back onto their rooftop meeting place at West 51st Street and 11th Avenue after dumping Hammerhead at the 27th Precinct. "Well?"

Steve runs a hand through his hair before responding. "Officer Mahoney read the note and hauled him inside. A few minutes after that, they sent a few unmarked cars to pick up Hammerhead's thugs."

Whooping loudly, Peter does a series of flips. He's on the ultimate high right now, having just dispensed some serious justice in the world with the hero he's worshipped all his life and two other heroes that he's starting to worship too. Especially Daredevil. It's impossible not to worship someone who does what he does and is blind to boot. "Way to go, Cap. You just made your first anonymous bad guy drop. You're officially a vigilante, just like Daredevil and me. Before you know it, Jolly Jonah'll be plastering your face on the Daily Bugle billboard with the word 'menace' across it in big red, white and blue letters and the cops'll shoot at you --"

"When they're not accusing you of the corrupt things they did to hide their guilt," Matt adds. 

"The cops already hate me on account my run-ins with the Tracksuit Mafia," Clint shrugs. "It's your turn now, Cap. Welcome to the bottom of the Dumpster."

Steve rubs the bridge of his nose, like he can't believe he actually spends time with these lunatics. Peter wonders if he's ever met Deadpool. "Excuse me?"

"Who here has spent any amount of time in a Dumpster?" Clint asks, raising his hand. "Show of hands."

Matt's hand goes up and so does Peter's. Steve just looks confused.

"It's a rite of passage," Matt explains. "Keep hanging out with us and fighting our kinds of fights and you'll end up in a Dumpster eventually. It might actually do you some good."

Steve's eyes narrow as he looks at Matt. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Think about it," Matt says with a wicked grin and then tilts his head in Peter's direction. "You did well tonight, Spider-man."

"Really?" Peter's voice squeaks and he mentally face-palms himself for his reaction. It's just that nobody ever tells him that or if they do, there are literally a hundred other contrary opinions. What makes the praise even more special is that it's coming from a guy like Daredevil.

To Peter's immense pleasure, Matt turns towards Steve and expands on his opinion. "We took down seven guards in the time it would have taken me to handle three."

"And you only broke two fingers," Clint adds with a mischievous grin. "Normally you come out looking like you've been through a meat grinder."

"Areas for improvement?" Steve asks and Peter's heart sinks. So much for praise.

Matt hesitates and a spark of hope blooms in Peter's chest but is rapidly extinguished when Matt says, "We need to get him over his fear of interrogations."

Steve looks thoughtful as he digests the assessment, his gaze resting on Peter while he considers how to rectify the problem. "I suppose Clint or Natasha could train --"

"No," Matt interrupts. "I think what he needs is on-the-job training."

"Um..." Peter starts to protest.

Steve nods in agreement. "Best way to learn the basics. Afterwards, we can teach him the finer points."

Oh god. Ohgodohgodohgod. They're talking about having him interrogate Yanovskiy. Maybe he can convince them it's a bad idea. "Do the basics include scolding them for using bad words?"

Clint snorts with laughter. "Only for Cap. Cap is a polite interrogator, in case you didn't notice when he was whaling on Hammerhead."

Peter winces at the memory of the sound Steve's fist made when it hit Hammerhead's body.

"You'd probably apologize for hurting 'em," Clint continues. His smile fades and he leans towards Peter, deadly serious. "If smacking the crap out of someone's not your style, kid, try hanging them upside down off the side of a building."

"What?! No!"

"He's right, Peter," Steve tells him. "You also need to be prepared to follow through."

"I'm not dropping anybody off a building," Peter protests vehemently and wondering what else he could possibly say to convince them that dangling someone off a building is a lousy idea and so is asking him to whale on anybody.

Clint raises an eyebrow. "Sure you can. I've seen you catch people with your webs. That little stunt would make anybody --" 

"Are you people nuts?!"

"Let me handle this." Matt tells Clint and Steve, before facing Peter. "Catching muggers is a fine goal but you want to do more, don't you?"

"Um, yeah..."

"You went after Fisk and you were in over your head because he's a lot different than a mugger, isn't he?"

"Yes?" Peter replies uncertainly.

"You needed to try a different approach, didn't you?"

"Well, yeah, but --"

"You needed to learn new skills, too, isn't that right?"

"Sure, but --"

"That's all we're talking about," Matt concludes and Peter realizes he's just been put through cross-examination, just like he's seen on those true crime shows that Aunt May enjoys watching. And just like on those shows, the lawyer made him agree to something he doesn't think he actually agrees with at all. "We're going to teach you a new skill."

"But --" Peter starts to protest even though he knows it's useless.

"Great," Steve cuts him off. "I'm looking forward to seeing you question Yanovskiy."

Hoo boy.

 

00000000000000000000000000

 

"Bro," Clint says.

Here's the thing about New York City. A little over eight million people live there and another four million pass through or visit every day. But as big a city as New York is, it's a small town. Forget Six Degrees of Kevin Bacon. Clint sometimes only has to turn around to find someone who knows someone who knows someone he pissed off or he's pissed off with.

Case in point: Nicolai Yanovskiy.

It turns out that Nicolai is Ivan's cousin. Ivan, as in the Tracksuit Mafia. Ivan, who's now in jail or possibly being deported back to whatever rock he crawled out from under, thanks to Clint, Kate and his tenants. Where Ivan was older, bald and kind of overweight, Nicolai is his snotty kid cousin. He's rail thin, is bathed in some kind of god-awful cologne, he's wearing an offensive amount of gold chains, he reeks of cigarette smoke and vodka and has an even more douchey attitude than Ivan did. Clint wants to punch his face in on principle. 

They've got Nicolai trapped in the office of his strip club. His over-sized but not even remotely intelligent or effective bouncers are unconscious and the girls took off the second the proverbial shit hit the fan in various states of undress. The look on Cap's face, Clint thinks with glee, was priceless and he's pretty sure Peter had the same look under his mask. Now it's just the four of them and Nicolai, who doesn't seem at all intimidated to be stared down by Captain America, Hawkeye, Daredevil and Spider-man. This only proves to Clint that the man is an idiot.

Nicolai smirks and addresses Clint. "Bro. How you like your building, bro?"

Clint shoots a look at Peter and raises an eyebrow. "Is he asking the questions or are you?"

"Shut up," Peter tells Nicolai but it lacks conviction. 

Out of the corner of his eye, Clint sees a flicker of disappointment pass over Steve's face.

"Fuck you, bro," Nicolai tells him. "What are you supposed to be, anyway?"

Peter wags a finger under Nicolai's nose. "Dude, language!"

Nicolai responds with a series of curses in English and Russian about Peter's parentage and sexual preferences.

Clint turns and shoots a look at Steve. Shooting a look at Matt wouldn't do any good but he's pretty sure Matt gets the idea. The kid is losing control of the situation. Steve gives a subtle shake of his head. In order words, Peter's really going to have to screw up before anyone steps in.

"I'm pretty sure whatever you just said wasn't very nice," Peter says, crossing his arms over his chest and tapping his foot. "Also, has anyone ever told you to say it, not spray it, dude? I mean seriously, this outfit is water-resistant and all but it doesn't block smells and your breath could take down Godzilla."

Nicolai unleashes another torrent of Russian but is silenced by a spray of webbing over his mouth.

"Ah, fresh air and silence," Peter says, spreading his hands and raising them, palms up. "How awesome is that?" He hops up onto Nicolai's desk and squats there, head cocked to one side. "You wanted to know who I'm supposed to be, right? I'm your friendly neighborhood Spider-man. Except I'm not feeling real friendly at the moment, pal. Want to know why?" He leaps over Nicolai's head and clings to the wall, staring down at Nicolai. "Actually, you're a smart guy. You probably already know why. Someone is going around pretending to be me, robbing banks and hurting people. Hurting people!"

With a flourish Peter does a flip and lands in front of Nicolai, grabbing him by the shirt with one hand and lifting him. "Do you even have any idea what that means? People think I nearly killed that bank manager! That I stole that money! All those months of trying to get people to trust me and now they're afraid of me. And for what? Some fat guy with a grudge who's going to rot in jail or get killed by a punk like you who wants to be like the fat guy?"

Clint exchanges startled looks with Steve. Even Matt looks concerned. Spider-kid sounds mightily *pissed*. So pissed in fact that Clint wonders if Steve might have to step in and pull the kid off Nicolai.

"You get how unhappy this makes me, right?" Peter demands.

Nicolai nods, eyes wide and start making muffled sounds under the web gag. Dumb and arrogant he may be but even he's noticed just how dangerously pissed off and strong Spider-kid is.

"I'm tired of idiots like you thinking they have some kind of...of manifest destiny that makes it okay to sell drugs to children and exploit those nice girls out there. So here's the thing, buddy, everyone thinks I'm just as bad as you are. What's stopping me from beating your stupid face in?" With that, Peter rips the web gag off of Nicolai, taking a good amount of skin with it.

Nicolai screams in pain and then starts babbling. It doesn't escape Clint's notice that the front of Nicolai's expensive designer jeans are suspiciously damp. "Y-you want the Chameleon, right? I'll tell you where to find him. Please...just don't kill me." He rattles off a series of addresses and names.

Peter webs Nicolai's mouth shut again and then webs him to the wall. "Thanks for your cooperation. For your next stupid mobster trick, you're going to turn yourself over to Brett Mahoney at the 27th Precinct and tell him exactly what a bad boy you've been. If you don't, I'm going to come back for you and you're going to learn what spiders do to their prey. Let me give you a hint in case you're too dumb to know how to use Wikipedia. Blood. Drain. Dead. Got it?"

Nicolai nods and whimpers.

"Fantastic. It's been lovely chatting with you and learning more about what a despicable human being you are." With that, Peter stalks past a stunned Steve, Clint and Matt and out the back door of the club.

They find him in the alley outside and they silently make a pact among themselves not to mention that he's just thrown up. He wipes his mouth and pulls his mask down before asking, "So? Was that okay?"

"Are you kidding?" Clint shakes his head. "You were great! You made him piss himself and all you did was gag him and lift him up. He was great, right, Cap?"

"He was great," Steve agrees.

Matt nods. "I was impressed."

"If you were old enough, I'd buy you a drink," Clint assures him.

"Lucky me," Peter drawls. "Actually, I think I got a buzz just smelling that guy. It's like he bathed in a distillery or something." 

"Captain, would you please administer a sobriety check on our young friend?" Matt quips. 

"Crawl up the wall in a straight line," Steve orders and then cracks a smile. "Actually, I think we can all have soft drinks while JARVIS runs those addresses for us."

Clint nearly snorts at the hokey sentiment before he remembers that Coke is great for settling an upset stomach. Only Steve could combine being a mother hen with rewarding the kid for a job well done and have the kid thank him. "Wait til you hear him bitch about how much Cokes used to cost back in the good old days."

"Captain America bitches?" Peter asks.

"I do not," Steve protests and then he adds, as he always does, "but Coke only cost a nickel back then."

"Seriously?" Peter asks. "They charge you a nickel just for the bottle deposit now."

That's all it takes to get Steve started as they walk towards the bodega two blocks down. "Oh, I've noticed, believe me and hardly anybody returns the bottles. It's so wasteful..." 

Clint adjusts his hearing aids to tune out Steve's diatribe and Matt nudges him, grinning wickedly because somehow he knows what Clint just did. He won't be grinning for long, Clint is sure, and soon Matt will be cursing his ridiculously powerful hearing. In fact, Matt will probably start praying for JARVIS to hurry the hell up with the intel and cursing inflation as the work of Satan.

Thanks to rising costs and corporate greed, not to mention Peter's teenage temper, the Chameleon is going to find himself on the receiving end of a serious ass-kicking before sunrise.

Clint cannot wait.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "So there I was, gentlemen, on a video conference that's too classified for me to even mention in passing when I am rudely interrupted and told that Captain America and Spider-man knocked over a bodega in Hell's Kitchen."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *** Just a reminder, Peter and his origin come straight from the Earth 1610 Ultimate-verse. No radioactive spiders. It's all about the race for super-soldiers. Even the mutants...uh, no, that's a spoiler for Ultimatum. Anyway, if you haven't read the amazing work of Brian Michael Bendis, I heartily encourage you to do so.***
> 
>  
> 
> Kraven's transformation from showbiz phony to genetically enhanced screw-up is chronicled in the Ultimate Six limited series. There's also a scuffle between Peter and Steve in issue #6 where they appear to be evenly matched.

Chapter 10

 

Steve sets the four bottles of Coke on the counter and inwardly winces at the clerk's wide-eyed expression when sees that his customers are Captain America and Spider-man. It takes Steve a moment to realize that the look on the clerk's face isn't the usual star-struck expression he's used to seeing but one of pure terror. The clerk points wordlessly at Peter before launching into what Steve believes might be Pakistani.

Peter is also staring, but not at the clerk. His attention is fixed on the television screen behind the counter which is silently displaying the word 'manhunt' in big red letters over pictures of Daredevil and Spider-man.

The clerk rummages in the cash register, pulls out a wad of cash and thrusts it towards Steve with a trembling hand, speaking in heavily accented English. "Take it."

"What?" Steve has a twenty dollar bill in his own hand. "Sir, I --"

"Take it. Take the money," the clerk pleads with him. "It's all I got."

Peter claps a hand to his forehead, which looks comical considering he's in the suit and tugs at Steve's arm. "Come on."

"But the Cokes," Steve starts to protest before Peter yanks in earnest, displaying a surprising amount of strength as he hauls Steve out of the bodega and out in the street. "What --?"

Peter stares up and him, fists on hips, head cocked to one side. "Seriously?"

"What?" Steve repeats again. "Oh," he says quietly when he realizes what just happened. "He thought...? That's just a misunderstanding. Let me go back in there and --"

"Are you out of your mind? He's probably calling the cops right now!"

"He is," Matt says, mouth quirked into a half-smile as he comes up to them. "Congratulations, Steve. You've just been accused of robbing that bodega with your accomplice, Spider-man. It must have been your lucky night, too, because you got away with six hundred dollars and the guy's watch. That's quite a haul for your first time knocking over a bodega, Captain America. Good thing you have the best defense attorney in the city on retainer."

Steve looks over his shoulder at the bodega. "But I tried to pay him --"

"I know. I heard the whole thing." Matt shrugs. "Welcome to vigilante life, my friend." He tilts his head to the right, smile fading. "The police are scrambling for resources to bring you both in. They also think I might be in cahoots with the two of you and there's a pool as to which of us is actually the ringleader. We have eight minutes before they send everything they have into Hell's Kitchen."

"Time to go," Peter says.

Clint raises an eyebrow. "Go where? The Tower's all the way across town and it'll be the first place they look, what with them coming after Captain America and all."

"It's just a misunderstanding," Steve says again. "Fury --"

"Can sort it out without you being arrested," Clint argues. "Okay, Hornhead. This is your territory. Know any places where we can hole up while our guy works his magic?"

"Your place?" Steve suggests to Matt. "I know I'm asking a lot --"

"You certainly are," Matt agrees but he surprises Steve when he acquiesces to the suggestion. "Be kind. It's the maid's day off and the place was decorated by a blind man."

They follow Matt as he ducks around the corner, leaps up onto a Dumpster, climbs up onto a dangling fire escape ladder and makes his way silently up the fire escape onto the roof. Steve and Clint do the same while Peter simply crawls up the wall. Matt leads them across a series of rooftops until they come to his building and then he beckons them down the stairs into his apartment.

"Nice place," Clint remarks and then he freezes when he sees the giant video billboard outside the living room window. "Holy crap!"

"The billboard? I got a great deal on this apartment because of it. One of the few times being blind has been a real advantage," Matt tells explains, pulling off his mask and scrubbing a hand over his face.

Steve glances over at Peter, watching as the boy starts to lift off his mask, looks over at Clint and then lowers his hand.

Even without being perched above them, Peter's hesitation doesn't escape Clint's notice and Clint, being Clint, doesn't let it pass. He closes the distance between them, standing directly in front of Peter and folds his arms over his chest. "Do we have a problem, kid?"

"I, um...no?"

"Then what's with the mask?"

"Would you believe me if I said it's not you, it's me?"

"I would," Matt calls out.

Clint flips him off without taking his eyes off of Peter. "I've been backing you up all night, kid, despite what the cops and the papers say about you. And I already know who you are, remember? Unless you've got some massive zit you're hiding under there, I'm not getting what the problem is."

Peter glances over at Steve but Steve shakes his head. While he can respect that Peter is protective of his identity, he agrees with Clint.

"Um..." Peter lifts the mask slowly. "It's just that an awful lot of people know who I am."

"Yeah, but we're the good guys." He grins as Peter tugs the mask off. "There you are. No zit and would you look at those puppy dog eyes, Steve?"

Peter blushes bright red and groans in embarrassment.

Clint turns his attention to Matt. "Okay, Lil Devil. Get over here and let's splint those fingers until Banner can set 'em properly."

"Ever notice how pushy those Avengers are, Peter?" Matt disappears into the bathroom, emerging with his first aid kit and hands it to Clint.

Peter sidles up to Steve, who's standing by the window, keeping watch. Suddenly, the wail of sirens fills the air. "My God, did they send the entire police force?"

"I'm counting two SWAT vans, four unmarked cars and another five marked cruisers," Matt rattles off while Clint finishes patching him up. "Oh, here come the helicopters. You might want step away from the window and close the curtains."

"Bro, your curtains are shredded," Clint tells him as Steve draws them shut.

Matt smiles a Cheshire cat smile. "I hadn't noticed."

"I did," Steve remarks casually. "Did that have anything to do with the wrecked furniture that was here the last time I visited?"

Matt just shrugs and, predictably, avoids the question. "Last time you visited, you brought cake instead of the police."

"Last time," Steve counters, "you had no food in your refrigerator."

"There'd better be food in there now," Clint puts in. "I'm starving." Clint strolls into the kitchen and opens the refrigerator. "Steve, check it out. He's got fresh fruit and veggies in here. I'm surprised, Murdock. I thought the smell of the pesticides, the manure and the sweat from the farm laborers who picked the stuff might put you off."

"Matt?" Peter cuts in before the usual verbal sparring with Clint over Matt's notoriously picky eating habits and ability to identify every manner of smell erupts. "If it's not too personal, do you mind if...I mean, are all of your senses except sight somehow amplified way beyond normal human range?"

"Yes," Matt confirms. "That's how I'm able to do what I do."

Steve exchanges startled looks with Clint. Matt doesn't like to talk about his abilities. Ever.

Matt waits a beat and then volleys back with a question of his own. "Stark hinted that you were some kind of modern version of Steve. Does that mean you were part of a super soldier experiment?"

Clint's eyebrows shoot up as he stares at Steve and then at Peter.

"Part of? N-not really." Peter leaps onto Matt's wall and starts crawling upwards, which Steve has noticed is one of the boy's defense mechanisms. It's no less startling whenever he sees it.

"But you were given the serum." Matt presses. "Or were you forced to take it?"

"Neither," Peter answers from directly above Matt. "It, uh..." He sighs and looks down at Steve. "How much did you and Tony figure out?"

Steve isn't surprised when Clint scowls at him, making it plain he's not happy about being left out of the loop. "A fair amount but I'd rather you told us."

"We've got plenty of time," Clint points out, "So feel free to keep fumbling around with the explanation, kid."

Peter drops down in front of Clint. "Yeah? And where'd you get your super eyesight?"

"Nothing super about it. Just at the upper range of normal, is all. I'm just a regular guy," Clint shrugs and then adds, "And an expert marksman."

"Wow. And you do this? You must be...wow..." Peter shakes his head.

"Yeah, wow," Clint echoes sarcastically, looking Peter up and down. "Are you supposed to be as strong as Steve?"

"I'm pretty strong," Peter says defensively.

"Super soldier strong?" Clint persists.

Steve, who's sitting on the couch, leans forward, remembering how easily Peter pulled him from the bodega. "He's stronger than he looks."

"He'd have to be."

"Hey!"

Clint smirks and Steve braces himself. "We've got time to kill, remember? How about a little test of strength between vintage and modern?"

"What? No!" Peter protests.

Steve stands up, eyeing Peter speculatively. "We don't have to beat each other senseless, Peter. We can do something low key, like arm wrestling."

"Easier on my furniture," Matt concurs, clearing space on the kitchen island.

"Twenty bucks on Spider-kid," Clint calls out. "Any takers?"

Matt rubs his chin. "I'll pass."

"Chicken."

"I'd take the bet but somebody hasn't paid his legal bill yet, Slumlord."

Steve positions himself on one side of the kitchen island. "Come on, Peter. Aren't you curious? I know I am."

"Look at you and look at me," Peter complains, gesturing at his slender form to emphasize his point. "It's not even a contest."

"It might be, if you don't hold back," Steve challenges.

With a sigh, Peter walks around the island and clasps hands with Steve. He does seem to be out-matched because Steve's arm looks like it's almost double the size of Peter's.

"Ready?"

Peter nods.

Appearances, Steve quickly discovers, are indeed deceiving. Despite his warning to Peter about holding back, it's Steve who makes the mistake of doing it and he quickly discovers that he's severely underestimated Peter. It turns out that Oz may indeed be an improvement over Project: Rebirth because Peter is damned strong. What he's not is experienced, because he's holding himself the wrong way and not giving himself enough leverage. Regardless, they go at it for nearly ten minutes before Peter loses and even then, it's close enough that Steve wonders if Peter let him win.

"Ow," Peter says, rubbing his shoulder. "Jeez, you're really strong."

"So are you," Steve tells him. Between Peter's size and his age, Steve would never have believed just how strong Peter actually was.

"I can't believe it," Clint says, shaking his head. "You know, Steve, with some training, the kid might actually be able to beat you in a fight."

Peter shakes his head. "No way--"

"The strength is almost an even match," Clint says to Peter, ticking his points off on his fingers. "You stick to walls; Steve can't. You've got that danger sense; Steve doesn't. All he's got that you don't, kid, are a vibranium shield and no sense of self-preservation."

"Peter has his webs," Matt puts in. "I'd also argue they might be equal in lack of sense of self-preservation."

"Good points," Clint agrees. "I'm dying to see these two spar. If they don't hold back, it'll be quite a show."

Steve shrugs and looks over at Peter who's looking down at his feet. He's about to say something encouraging when his earpiece buzzes, followed by the angry sound of Nick Fury's voice in his ear.

"I'm downstairs and I'm coming up," Fury barks. "Tell Murdock that I already know about his extralegal activities and I don't care about him insofar as he's not responsible for murdering that federal witness yesterday." With that he disconnects.

"Who is this Fury person?" Matt asks him, having heard the entire conversation.

"The scariest guy you will ever meet," Peter answers. "Is he here?"

Before Steve can add to Peter's answer, Fury is pounding on the door and when Steve lets him in, he sweeps in, black leather trench coat billowing behind him like a cape. "So, Captain Rogers," Fury says, rounding on Steve, "I see you've been busy recruiting new members without discussing it with me."

Somehow, Matt's found the time to slip on his dark glasses and retrieve his cane. The effect, combined with his Daredevil suit borders on ludicrous and Steve knows it's intentional. There is no way these two personalities are going to get along. "Actually, Mr. Fury, is it--?"

"Director Fury, Mr. Murdock," Fury corrects him.

"Well, Director Fury," Matt says in his smooth, lawyer's voice, "I'm afraid that until such time as the Avengers are fully ADA compliant --"

"Stow it, Murdock. We both know you don't need special handling." To Steve's surprise, Matt falls silent. Fury rounds on Peter. "And look who we have here. The littlest fugitive on the team. What do you have to say for yourself, Parker?"

"Um --"

"He's our intern," Clint says.

Fury eyes him. "Not another word, Slumlord."

Clint raises his hands in surrender and steps back.

Fury stands at parade rest, glaring at each of them in turn. "So there I was, gentlemen, on a video conference that's too classified for me to even mention in passing when I am rudely interrupted and told that Captain America and Spider-man knocked over a bodega in Hell's Kitchen." He pauses and glares hard at Steve. "Now I know how much we pay you, Captain, and I know you're not desperate for cash, so my first thought is this is some impostor but then I find out who your accomplice is."

Peter seems to shrink under Fury's glare when it's directed at him.

"And then the cops," Fury goes on, "they come up with a brilliant theory." He turns to glare at Matt who's smiling at him. "They think the three of you are working together and what do you know? Here you all are and dragging Barton into your bullshit to boot."

Steve cuts his eyes over to Clint and guesses he's turned off his hearing aids because Clint is smiling beatifically. "The bodega clerk--"

"Is going to withdraw his complaint," Fury finishes. "That takes care of one problem. I still have to deal with Parker's mess."

"What about Daredevil?" Steve asks. "He's been framed by the Chameleon, too. I'm assuming you wouldn't be here unless you knew that and had an assignment for us." It's the only explanation as to why JARVIS hasn't followed up yet with the information he requested.

Fury smiles coldly. "The Chameleon is incidental. He's a wanna-be using outdated technology. His half-brother, on the other hand, went and illegally altered his genetic structure. Him, we'd like in custody."

Peter's eyes go wide. "He what? Who? How?"

"Little man, if I had that information, I wouldn't need you, would I?" Fury lets that sink in and then continues. "Your friend Kraven is very, very angry with you, Peter. He's got his brother helping, drawing you out --"

"We thought they were working for Fisk," Matt interrupts.

"Who do you think bankrolled Kraven's transformation? Since you masked vigilantes showed up on the scene to make his life difficult, Fisk built himself a stable of freaks, starting with that Electro character, and that put his fat ass on my radar. Otherwise, I wouldn't give a good goddamn about him and his mobster shit. He's using his science experiments to get rid of evidence and witnesses and again, let me be clear. I don't care about Fisk --"

"You --" Matt starts to protest.

"I. Do. Not. Care." Fury locks stares with Steve. "You get yourself tangled up in Daredevil's mob-busting bullshit, you're on your own, soldier. You got me?"

Steve squares his shoulders and returns the stony look. "You've made your point, Nick. We'll get Kraven and whoever tampered with him. We're also going to bring down the Chameleon and when we do, I'd appreciate it if you'd make sure Matt and Peter are cleared."

"The vigilante is not my concern, Captain."

"He is now." The use of the singular almost throws Steve until he remember Fury telling him just how classified Peter was. Now that he knows about Oz and how strong Peter is, Fury's interest in Peter makes sense. Still, it doesn't stop Steve from probing, "Both of the vigilantes are."

"Peter's been my concern since he put on those tights of his." Fury's gaze swings towards Peter and he asks almost fondly, "Stark make that suit for you?"

Peter nods.

"Looking good, kid." He turns back to Steve and is all-business again. "Are you making Peter *your* concern, Captain Rogers?"

Steve doesn't hesitate. "Yes."

"Here's how that's going to go," Fury dictates. "I've got no problems with you training him or keeping him around as a mascot --"

"Hey!" Peter protests.

"You wanna let him tag along with you," Fury continues, "it's local only. Tri-state area. Anything more than that -- DC included -- and you have to clear it with me first. The kid is a kid, Rogers. He's got an aunt that worries about him, don't you, Peter?"

"Um...yeah..."

"It's going on three a.m. You think she might be wondering where the hell you are?"

"Um..."

Fury shoots him a look that could freeze lava. "Your friend Mr. Stark called her hours ago, told her the two of you were tinkering in his lab and lost track of time. He told her you're spending the night in a guest room and he'll make sure you get to school on time. Now I know your first period class in American History starts at 7:40, Peter. You planning on showing up today?"

Peter's shoulders sag. "I...uh..."

"I'll take care of it," Fury tells him. "Just this once, mind you. This ain't gonna be a regular thing, got me?"

"Okay," Peter says, sounding utterly defeated.

"Captain America is not going to contribute to the delinquency of a minor by letting him ditch school, isn't that right, Captain?" Fury demands.

"Absolutely," Steve agrees.

Fury smiles coldly at Steve's acquiescence. "Weekends, holidays and breaks, Rogers. No more keeping Junior here out late on a school night unless you clear it with me or are under my direct orders. The boy's education comes first. He's a smart kid and those grades aren't going to slip because he's playing Avengers and super-villains with you. Understood?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good. Give me two hours to kiss the police commissioner's ass and get this manhunt called off." He turns and stalks towards the door, only to be blocked by Matt's cane.

"No words of warning to the Captain about interfering with my promising legal career, Director?" Matt asks with a smirk. "After all, my firm is handling all of those nasty paternity cases and we wouldn't want those to become public or messy, would we?"

Fury cocks his head and smiles coldly at Matt. "Your stellar legal work for my team of misfits is the only reason I haven't had your illegally enhanced ass hauled in, Murdock."

"I'm not enhanced."

"Care to wager on that?" He leans in towards Matt but doesn't lower his voice. "I know exactly which chemicals took your sight and enhanced everything else, Matthew, and it's not the ones listed in the public records. Do you?"

Matt's smile mirrors Fury's. "Not yet, but I do love a challenge."

"I also know about the old friend who visited you recently," Fury remarks idly. "You'd be surprised how much I know about you, Murdock."

"As would you, Director," Matt responds, lowering his cane to let Fury pass. He holds up a hand as Fury shuts the door behind him, keeping it up for nearly a minute and then walks over to the door where he runs his hand along the door frame. With a grin, Matt comes over to Steve and hands him the listening device.

Steve drops it on the floor and crushes it under his boot.

"Interesting friends you have, Steve," Matt remarks. "Would it surprise you to know he's an extremely accomplished liar?"

"No," Steve says, with a shake of his head as he thinks about the extent of Fury's relationship with Peter. "It wouldn't surprise me at all."


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "He told me to shut up," Clint says, "but everyone tells me that. I don't take it personally anymore."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ****The backstory involving Norman Osborn, the Oz formula and Nick Fury's statement that Peter will belong to him when he turns 18 comes from Ultimate Spider-man issues 22-26 (the "Legacy" arc).***
> 
> Seriously, if you haven't checked out the Ultimate-verse by now, you should.

Chapter 11

***see notes for important information about Osborn, Oz and Fury***

 

"I'm sorry," Peter says, breaking the silence. He's spent the last few minutes crawling the walls of Matt's apartment, feeling guilty and waiting for everyone blame him for everything that Fury said. Not that they would be wrong to blame him. After all, it's his fault, starting with dragging Steve into the mess with the Chameleon and everything that came after. They will never speak to him after tonight, he's sure.

"For what?" Steve asks.

Peter stares at him, confused. "What do you mean, for what? Fury just ripped you a new one because of me. A-and he called Matt an illegal genetic mutation --"

"I've been called worse," Matt shrugs.

"He told me to shut up," Clint says, "but everyone tells me that. I don't take it personally anymore."

Steve shrugs. "And you can't say he wasn't right about you needing to be more responsible, right, Peter?"

Responsible? That's all he ever is. Responsible for ruining the lives of everyone around him, including his own. Peter drops to the floor, landing in a crouch in front of Steve. "Look, you guys have gotten into enough trouble because of me. I can handle --"

"That's cute, kid," Clint chuckles.

"Cute?" Peter echoes incredulously.

Clint nods. "You think that was me getting in trouble with Fury? Boy, you are sorely mistaken. I've been in trouble with Fury and that? That was just him saying hello."

Peter moans at the thought. "God, I hate that guy so, so much."

"Has he done something to you?" Matt asks. 

There's a moment where Peter considers telling them about Fury's promise that Peter, as an illegal genetic mutation himself, will belong to Fury when he turns eighteen. Mostly, he tries not to think about that promise and what it means. The thing is, Peter knows he's a terrible liar and he's in a room with three people who can tell when *Fury* is lying. The easiest thing to do is to tell the truth. "Not really. We...uh...have history." There. Nice and vague. "So, um, Steve...did JARVIS get back to you yet?"

The look Steve shoots him says that the topic of Nick Fury will be revisited at a later date. "He did. Matt, may I borrow your laptop?"

"Sure." Matt goes into the bedroom, returning a moment later with a laptop case, handing it to Steve. "If you break it, Stark's giving me a new one."

"You're hoping I break it."

"It's time for an upgrade," Matt shrugs, "and my budget is a little tight."

"Why don't you just ask Tony?" Steve counters.

"Have you ever asked Tony for anything technology related?"

"I try not to ask Tony about anything involving technology period," Steve admits, setting the laptop down on Matt's coffee table. Peter stares at him in disbelief but as he starts to open his mouth, Steve cuts him off. "The questions I have are very different from the ones you'd ask, Peter. I'm still catching up, as you might remember from that incident with your phone."

Peter and Clint crowd around Steve as he boots up the laptop and flinches as the VoiceOver app announces the items he mouses over.

Matt chuckles softly. "Peter, you can turn off the VoiceOver for Steve because I trust you to turn it back on when he's done. Steve, I'm relying on you to tell me what you're reading."

"Make stuff up, Steve," Clint suggests.

"I can tell if he's lying," Matt reminds him.

"You are no fun whatsoever."

"I'll remember you said that the next time you ask me to tell you if someone's lying."

Peter watches as Steve clicks open a series of files. For each of the names that Nicolai gave, there's a scary amount of information that goes beyond the usual driver's license or criminal record he's seen on cop TV shows. The addresses that JARVIS researched have even more information than ownership records. JARVIS has satellite images and surveillance videos showing activity, cross-referenced against the list of names to place them at any or all of the locations. It's absolutely freaky. And it's incredible. He's so overwhelmed that all he can do listen, awestruck, as Steve reads the information aloud and shares his thoughts with Matt and Clint, who in turn ask questions of their own and in Matt's case, send Steve into a legal search program to pull even more information. Being overwhelmed lasts until they start narrowing down names and locations on the theory that the some of the people on the list are working for or helping the brothers Kravinoff. That's the point where Peter has an epiphany. "Hey! Wait a second!"

Steve pauses mid-sentence, eyebrow raised. "Yes?"

"We're doing this wrong." 

"We're researching the information from the interrogation," Steve explains slowly, as if maybe Peter suddenly got stupid.

"Yeah," Peter says, just as slowly, "and that was from before we knew that Kraven started screwing with his DNA. That was back when petty criminals and mob guys might have been important, except now we know they're totally useless. What we *should* be looking for are ex-Oscorp and Hammer scientists who haven't been employed for the past few months." He pauses because everyone is looking at him like he's crazy, even Matt. Well, maybe he's just imagining that Matt's looking at him but Matt probably thinks he's crazy. "I-I mean, I'm not an expert or anything but...um...Norman Osborn had to keep injecting himself with goblin juice --"

"Goblin juice?" Matt echoes incredulously. Yup, he thinks Peter is crazy.

"Nobody gets my sense of humor," Peter sighs and then continues. "I mean, he needed constant injections of an Oz formula variant, mostly to maintain his strength and also because he was a sick junkie freak. Anyway, what I know is that he didn't make the stuff by himself. He was smart, sure, but he had a bunch of geneticists and biochemists who cooked the formula up for him. Osborn's been in custody since..."

"Last May," Clint supplies.

Peter eyes him suspiciously. "Were you there?"

"Maybe."

"Where were you?"

Clint shrugs and flashes a grin. "That's classified, kid. Sorry. But between us, you did a great job taking him down."

Peter shudders and then forces himself to continue. "Okay, so figure these scientists haven't had a paying job since May because seriously, would you hire someone who helped a guy turn himself into a psychotic murdering goblin creature on purpose? And it's not like they're going to take jobs at Frog Burger, right? Not when they know what they know and people like Fisk are willing to pay for it."

"Or when people like Fisk have something over them," Matt adds with a smile. Without his mask, the smile is a lot less mocking than one of Matt's smiles usually look. In fact, Matt seems kind of proud. "Good thinking, Peter, and a much more sound approach, don't you agree, Steve?"

It shouldn't matter but Peter holds his breath as he waits for Steve's opinion.

"It's perfect," Steve agrees, tapping his earpiece and listening. "JARVIS will have that for us shortly."

"Is he always listening in?" Peter asks. 

"Not always but for now, yes."

"Wow, that's creepy."

"It's funny," Matt remarks, "how so many problems keep coming back to super soldier serums being misused, isn't it, Steve?"

As much as Peter likes Matt -- and he really does -- the question irks him. "It's not Steve's fault. He volunteered to be a test subject. It's not like he came up with the formula and the idea to use it."

"I also wasn't the first human test subject," Steve adds. "That was Schmidt."

"My point isn't that Steve did something wrong," Matt says. "My point is that once Steve proved a formula like that could work, the genie was out of the bottle and here we are, with CEOs turning themselves into homicidal goblins and reality TV stars -- and I use that term facetiously -- turning themselves into whatever for the stupidest of reasons."

"That's why we're here," Clint puts in. "That's part of what the Avengers Initiative is all about. The other part involves stopping insane space princes who lead alien invasions and whatnot. And before you ask, Murdock, the 'whatnot' covers a lot of ground, like those giant squid things a few months ago."

Steve picks up his earpiece and holds up a hand for silence. "Gentlemen. We have a name. Dr. Conrad Markus. Surveillance footage puts him at the building at 525 West 50th Street every morning for the past two weeks between 5 and 6am. Fury should have the manhunt lifted by then." He turns to Peter with a huge smile that makes Peter blush with pride. "Keep up the good work, son."

"I guess we're gonna keep him as a mascot, then," Clint teases. 

"Hey!"


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Who's to say I'm not completely off *my* rocker, between the Oz and all these crazy teenage hormones I've got going on? I mean, look at this outfit. Would somebody sane dress up like this and go out in public?"

Chapter 12

 

As plans go, this one isn't particularly complicated and Steve has been careful to take into account Matt's stubborn streak and the fact that Peter isn't used to team dynamics. Sunrise is a little over ninety minutes away and they are perched on the rooftop of the building directly across from where the Kravinoffs are holed up, preparing for the first phase of the plan. Steve watches as Matt positions himself at the ledge, posture reminding Steve of a hunting dog, keen senses focused on finding its prey. 

"They're speaking Russian," Matt murmurs. 

"I can translate," Clint offers.

"They're speaking too quickly for me to repeat it." His head tilts ever so slightly to the right. "One of them sounds agitated --"

"Kraven," Peter says. "He probably needs his fix."

Matt flashes a grim smile. "I have some good news."

"Do you?" Steve steps up beside him and strains to hear whatever Matt is hearing. His senses, like everything else the serum affected, are also enhanced, but he's not nearly as skilled as Matt is in blocking out the unimportant to hone in on what is. He's also not nearly enhanced enough to identify a person by heartbeat within a three block radius or hear whatever has caught Matt's attention. "And?"

"I was expecting to hear a heartbeat like yours," Matt tells him. "Whatever Kraven did to himself, that heartbeat of his is maybe half as strong as yours and it's erratic, almost like tachycardia at times. The serum might steady him but he's probably going to burn through it fast if he exerts himself."

Peter crouches beside them. "Osborn did."

There's a beat where Steve waits for Peter to expand on that statement but it doesn't happen. In Steve's limited experience, Peter gets stubbornly silent when anything personal is involved. Peter likes to use humor as a defense mechanism and Steve decides to test a theory about using humor to breach those defenses. "How many extra helpings of goblin juice did he need?"

Peter's head tilts to the side as he looks up at Steve, managing to look curious despite the mask concealing his features. "Um, about four, I think." 

"That's helpful information," Steve assures him and mentally files away the use of humor as a successful strategy when dealing with Peter in the future.

"We've got a taxi coming," Matt announces. "Get ready for phase one."

"Are you sure it's Markus in that taxi?" Clint asks, nocking an arrow and leaning over the ledge to watch the taxi slowly making its way along West 50th Street.

"Are you really asking me that?" Matt asks before he vanishes over the side of the building. He's the backup in the plan and Clint's role comes into play only if everything else goes to hell. Peter is the one they're all depending on.

They watch as the taxi pulls to a stop. A moment later, Markus gets out. In the split second it takes for him to turn towards the building and the taxi to pull away, a delicate strand of webbing shoots down and snags the scientist by the shoulder. More webbing covers Markus' mouth, silencing his protests as Peter hauls him up and onto the roof.

"What's up, doc?" Peter asks cheerfully as Clint snatches Markus' leather satchel from him. 

"Mmmfffffmmmm."

Peter cocks his head to the side, pretending to be confused. "Oh, hey, I guess it would make conversation easier if I took that gag off. But then I'd have to worry about you screaming like a girl."

"He won't scream." Matt comes up silently behind Peter, brandishing his baton. "Will you, doctor?"

"Mmmmffffmmmm!!!" The doctor's eyes dart from Peter to Matt to Clint and then finally rest on Steve, where they go wide with surprise and then narrow with interest. Finally, the doctor tears his gaze away to focus back on Peter. "Mmmmff."

Peter does his trick of spraying fresh webbing over the old and lifts the gag off.

"Mister Parker," Markus greets him, chuckling when the boy flinches. "Oh, come now, Parker. No need to be shy. You were the one who wanted a conversation, after all." He sneers at Peter. "What else would we talk about --?"

"How about all the stuff the Kingpin is paying you to do?" Peter cuts him off, testily.

Steve sees Matt's mouth twitch upward almost imperceptibly. Clint's face is stoic but Steve can tell he's as proud as the rest of them at Peter's progress with conducting interrogations in a single night.

Markus, however, isn't having any of it. "Young man, you presume to know a great deal --"

"So do you, but the thing is, you don't know as much about me as you think you do. For example, did you know I can do this?" Peter coats Markus in a cocoon of webbing and backs him up to the edge of the roof. He pauses for a heartbeat and then lifts Markus up with both hands, dangling him over the ledge. 

"Y-you won't drop me --"

"Are you sure?" Peter asks him. "You're one of the geniuses who created Oz and you saw what it did to good old Normie. Maybe you could argue that he was a little bit nuts before that but the guy went completely bonkers after he started shooting up with it. And here's the thing, Doc. Who's to say I'm not completely off *my* rocker, between the Oz and all these crazy teenage hormones I've got going on? I mean, look at this outfit. Would somebody sane dress up like this and go out in public?" 

"I-I...help! Help!"

"You're twelve stories up, doc," Peter remarks casually and then he continues, "Hey, you know what your predicament reminds me of? It's exactly like a question I had on my physics final where I had to figure out the right acceleration formula for an object at rest dropped from a certain height. FYI, Doc, you'd be the object at rest in that equation. What would your final velocity be from this height, do you think? If I just dropped you, I mean. If I threw you, that would be a whole different calculation. You've studied me, right? You've got some idea how hard I can throw, so you'd have to figure the velocity would be --"

"Please! I'll talk," Markus promises, "Please! Don't drop me!"

"Hey, Daredevil," Peter calls out. "Is he lying?"

"Not yet."

Peter hauls Markus up and drops him at Steve's feet. "I'll bet you've always wanted to meet Captain America, Doc. I mean, yeah, obviously. Duh. He's Captain America." Peter reaches up and puts a hand on Steve's shoulder, patting it as he speaks. "Just look at this amazing example of biochemistry! Bet you wish you invented him, don't you? You know what, Doc? This scientific marvel is going to kick your teeth in if you don't tell us what the Kingpin paid you to do to Kraven the Hunter and he won't even stub his pinky toe doing it. And you know that's not just because he's wearing steel toed combat boots, right?"

"Y-you won't understand," Markus stutters. "It's very scientific --"

"Hmm, you're right. I'm just a dumb kid." Crouching down, Peter leans over Markus and snaps his gloved fingers. "I know. Let's play a kid's game. You remember twenty questions, don't you, Doctor Markus? Ready? First question: did you give Kraven the same formula Osborn was using?"

"No, but --"

"You didn't mix the Oz with Kraven's blood?"

"No, the formula was too unstable, as you know."

"Did you mix it with spider blood?"

"No."

"Did you mix it with *my* blood?"

There's a pause. "No."

"He's not lying," Matt calls out, "but he's not telling the whole truth either."

Steve nudges the good doctor with the toe of his boot. "It's not a good idea to omit information, Doctor."

Markus squeaks and wets his pants for the second time. "Roxxon. I-I used your blood for Roxxon."

"Roxxon?" Peter looks up at Steve, silently inquiring whether he should ask more about it.

As much as Steve wants to pursue that line of questioning, they have other matters to take care of first. He steps on the doctor's knee, applying pressure and is rewarded when the doctor starts to scream. Peter clamps a hand over the man's mouth, silencing him. "Let's cut to the chase, shall we? What blood did you use?"

Peter lifts his hand and the doctor gasps for air. "Lion."

"That's an endangered species, you...you pompous jackass!" 

Markus nods nervously and licks his lips. "We'd had some success with feline blood and Mr. Kraven asked if it was possible to try lion. I tried to warn him that the results couldn't be guaranteed --"

"You make me sick," Matt snarls, hauling the doctor to his feet. "You have ten seconds to tell us what we're dealing with before *I* throw you off the roof and I don't really care about velocity so much as the sound you'll make when you hit the pavement." There's a beat. "Time's up. Off you go --"

"Wait!"

"Yes?"

"I used a weaker version of Oz to begin with to try to stabilize the formula," Markus stutters. "It only lasts four hours if he's inactive. Less than one if he's active. A fight with any of you could drain him in minutes b-but..."

"But?" Matt hisses.

"But he's a lion creature, right?" Peter asks, sounding bored. "Big teeth, big claws. Hey, does he have a tail?"

"N-no."

"That's disappointing."

"Have we heard enough?" Matt asks.

"Drop him," Steve orders.

The doctor whimpers for the fraction of a second it takes Matt to knock him out cold.

Peter stands up and dramatically drags a gloved hand across his masked forehead. "Man, I wish somebody told me being a big time superhero was so much work, what with the interrogating people and whatnot. Do you guys do this all the time?"

"For somebody who said they'd never dangle somebody off a building and threaten to drop 'em, you got religion real fast, Spider-kid," Clint says. "And I gotta tell you, you made physics downright terrifying."

"I wish we had more time to find out about what Roxxon is doing with your blood." Matt prods the unconscious man with this baton. "And what other nasty things he's been doing for Fisk."

Steve agrees but they're on a tight timetable. "Fury will find out --"

"I don't trust Fury," Matt counters.

"Table that for now," Steve orders. To his relief, the matter drops. "Sunrise is in fifty-five minutes, which should be more than enough time to take care of the Kravinoffs now that we know what we're dealing with. Stick to the plan. Spider-man, you're with me. Daredevil and Hawkeye, you know what to do. Any questions before we begin?"

"I have one," Peter says. "Is anyone here allergic to cats?"


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Face it, Scar," Peter tells Kraven, crouching over him, "when it comes to brute strength, you got the shallow end of the illegally enhanced gene pool."
> 
> "I understood that reference," Steve says excitedly.

Chapter 13

 

Being Daredevil was a lot easier before Steve Rogers strong-armed him into becoming an auxiliary Avenger. All right, that's not exactly fair. Matt knows that nobody could really force him into doing something he didn't want to do, stubborn as he is. Deep down, and he will never admit this out loud, though Foggy knows it anyway, Matt was a little star struck when he met Captain America for the first time. Being star struck led to him being flattered when he was asked to call the man 'Steve' and then asked to think about joining the team. The feeling faded fast when Matt considered the fact that the types of problems that the Avengers handled were not the types of things that happened in Hell's Kitchen. At least until today. Today, his world and Steve's have collided, and that's all because Wilson Fisk decided that ordinary gun thugs weren't good enough for him anymore. If he had any idea this was coming, he probably wouldn't have given Steve such a hard time when the man came to recruit him. Ah, who is he kidding? Of course he would have. 

He's in position on the fire escape just above the fourth floor where the Kravinoff brothers are waiting for Doctor Markus. Peter and Steve are on the north side of the building. Clint is in the basement, where he's about the cut the power and plunge the building into darkness.

Kraven's heart is beating rapidly and he's sweating profusely, muttering in Russian and English what Matt assumes are unflattering things about Markus not being on time. Kraven still sounds human, which doesn't surprise Matt after Peter's explanation that it's only the drug and a boost of adrenaline that should trigger any kind of transformation. The Chameleon is speaking soothingly in Russian and Matt hears a faint electronic humming coming from the man's mid-section. That humming, no doubt coming the device that alters the Chameleon's appearance, is going to be like a homing beacon for Matt. Besides, who better to take down an illusionist than someone who doesn't rely on sight?

Matt hears the circuit breakers trip and then things happen quickly.

Steve and Peter come crashing through the windows on the north side of the building. 

Matt does the same on the south side.

The faint humming at the Chameleon's waist becomes louder, which Matt assumes means that the device has been activated.

Kraven's heartbeat spikes and his sweat takes on the unmistakable tang of something that Matt has smelled in zoos. He roars and snarls.

What happens next is rather anticlimactic, at least on Matt's end. He has no idea who the Chameleon is impersonating but he finds out fairly quickly that while this particular Kravinoff can throw a punch, he relies too much on his illusion gimmick. Matt puts him down without even breaking a sweat. Ripping the device from the Chameleon's waist, he mutters, "Well, that was disappointing."

"Hey, Scar! Over here," calls Peter from the far end of the room.

There's a loud growl that Matt thinks might actually be the words 'kill you' but it's hard to tell over Peter's off-key rendition of 'The Lion Sleeps Tonight' and the sound of Peter's gloved fist pounding Kraven's body repeatedly.

"I feel like a useless sidekick," Clint mutters, coming up alongside Matt. "The kid's hogging all the action. Seriously. I haven't fired an arrow yet."

"Is this really the best genetic enhancement you can get on the black market?" Peter wonders aloud as he throws a barely conscious Kraven across the room to Steve. "What do you think, Cap?"

There's a crunching sound and a grunt of pain as Steve punches Kraven's midsection. "It didn't make his bones any stronger, that's for sure. I just broke four of his ribs without trying."

Kraven groans and collapses, his breath wheezing in and out while Peter binds him with webbing. And just like that, the fight is over. Matt isn't sure whether he's relieved or disappointed. He's leaning towards disappointed, though, especially when he knows he's going to describe the night's events to an even more disappointed Foggy.

"Face it, Scar," Peter tells Kraven, crouching over him, "when it comes to brute strength, you got the shallow end of the illegally enhanced gene pool."

"I understood that reference," Steve says excitedly. 

Clint just groans and mutters once more about useless sidekicks.

 

00000000000000000000000000

 

It doesn't come as a surprise when they return to the Tower that Tony has already set up a room for Peter. At least, it's not a surprise for Steve. Peter, on the other hand, is overcome when he sees the desk with top of the line Stark tech, the closet full of clothes in Peter's size and a spare Spider-man suit. An Avengers ID card for Spider-man sits on the desk, along with a Stark Industries ID made out in the name of Peter Parker, Intern and a job offer letter for the internship. Steve promises to wake Peter for lunch and then heads towards his own set of rooms.

Nick Fury is waiting for him. That's a surprise.

Steve stops short when he sees the video playing on his television. It's surveillance footage of a bespectacled Peter, looking even smaller and more frail, jerking backward and screaming in pain as a very large spider lands on his hand and bites him. The footage repeats twice and then pauses.

"You see that?" Fury asks.

Steve nods, eyes glued to the screen. "Yes, sir."

Fury sighs, shakes his head and emits a rueful laugh. "I've seen it at least a hundred times and I still can't believe it. The kid gets bit by a damn spider and he's the biggest success story in the super soldier program since, well, you." His expression turns serious. "People don't come after you because you're full-grown super soldier. You wouldn't believe what comes after this kid, Rogers, looking for a piece of him."

"Markus mentioned something about Roxxon." He's testing the waters now that Fury has shown him what was levels above his clearance just weeks ago. Apparently, his clearance has changed in the last few hours.

"I'm gonna need you to do something about that," Fury tells him, "Just like I'm gonna need you to back HYDRA off of him. I know you like the kid, Rogers, but it'd be best if he doesn't know how much heat he's got coming down on him."

"That may not be possible," Steve counters. "I'm getting the feeling his secret identity isn't as secret as he'd like it to be."

That gets a smile out of Fury. "No, it's not. I've had other people working on keeping Parker under wraps because it didn't need to be Avengers business. Word's going to get out very quickly that he's under your protection --"

"That should be a good thing."

"It could turn into a full time job," Fury counters. "Then again, that's fatherhood for you."

"I'm not --"

"Aren't you?" Fury gestures to the screen. "Look at him. Seven months ago, the kid was Steve Junior, scrawny as hell and allergic to damn near everything. Now look at him, following in your *other* footsteps. The kid needs a father figure, Rogers, and better you than me." He barks a laugh. "You don't scare the hell out of him like I do."

Steve's head is reeling but he manages to ask, "And why exactly do you scare him, Nick?"

"That," Fury tells him with a grin as he heads for the door, "is still on a need to know basis. I'll have the intel on Roxxon for you soon. Oh, and tell the kid I said 'good job.'"

The door closes softly and the image of Peter flickers off of the screen. With a sigh, Steve starts tugging off his uniform and vows not to recruit any new more members for a while. 

 

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"Hey, look who's not grounded!"

Peter clutches Mary Jane's hand a little tighter as they get off the elevator and winces at Tony's greeting. He wasn't sure what to think when Steve invited him for an Avenger's 'family dinner and movie night' and told Peter to bring Mary Jane. Actually, Peter's still not sure what to think because he's almost positive that huge blonde guy at the end of the table is Thor and he's got a pair of girls with him. "Hi Tony."

Mary Jane launches herself at Steve, giving him a hug and then repeats the process as he introduces Clint, Bruce and Natasha. She shakes Tony's hand and hugs Pepper.

It's only when he comes to Matt that he pauses in the introductions because he's not sure how Matt feels about having his identity shared. Then again, Peter doesn't know the guy with the longish blonde hair sitting next to Matt either. "Mary, this is Matt Murdock. He's a lawyer --"

"I'm Daredevil," Matt tells her and then smiles in Peter's direction. "The gentleman to my left is my partner, Foggy Nelson. Foggy, this young man is Peter Parker, also known as Spider-man and his girlfriend, Mary Jane."

Foggy's eyes go wide. "Spider-man is a kid? You didn't tell me that!"

Peter groans and Mary Jane leaps to his rescue. She grins at Peter and winks. "You didn't tell me Daredevil was visually impaired and gay."

"We're *law partners*," Foggy corrects her firmly. "Not the other kind."

Matt chuckles and pats the seat next to him. "Have a seat, you two."

"What kind of law do you practice, Mr. Murdock?" Mary Jane asks, taking the seat next to Peter who's seated at Matt's right.

"We're defense attorneys," Matt tells her. "But we also do a little of everything because we're a relatively new practice and we need money. Are you thinking about going to law school?"

"Maybe," Mary Jane says, which is a surprise to Peter. "I've been thinking about teaching and journalism, too. Do you like being a lawyer?"

"I do." He flashes a smile at her. "We have a trial coming up next week, if you'd like to come watch. Jury selection should take up most of the morning, which means we'll be starting opening arguments right around the time you're done with school."

"Unless we settle before then," Foggy says. "In which case you'll be in time to celebrate with us."

The two start talking about the case and apparently, that was Matt's strategy because he leans over and murmurs in Peter's ear, "I've been looking into Roxxon --"

"So have I," Peter admits.

"So have I," Steve says, coming up behind them and laying a hand on each of their shoulders. "Since tomorrow is Saturday, Peter, I don't imagine you'll have any difficulty coming here to meet with Matt and me."

Peter throws a helpless look at Mary Jane. He's going to have to postpone their fancy dinner date again and he's postponed it so many times already. Mary Jane sees his expression and nods her approval to his unspoken question. "No," Peter confirms. "It's Avengers business. No difficulty at all."

 

The End (for now)


End file.
